Wednesday, October 23, 2013

You Listen (Poem 204)

When I talk to you, you listen and
sometimes bow your head a little, 
an enviably- heavy lock of golden-brown 
hair falling forward to shade your eyes.

When I talk to you, I imagine
you hearing me, letting my words
tumble over you like a freshet, as if
you are a lichen-covered stone.

When I talk to you, you hold me
in your burning gaze, pupils dilated
in concentration, a smile trembling,
sometimes, at the corners of your mouth.

When I talk to you, I am handing you
my Faberge egg, a Lalique crystal flute,
one perfect Robin's egg shell, and I know 
they are safe from harm, because 
when I talk to you, you are not there at all.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

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