You were imprinted on my fingertips
A legacy of refusals?
written as a dim memory
in line and skin
I kept you at arms length
or balled you into a fist
~
As a child
it is true
I was taught
to expect some relationship
~
So impressed into the feverish
tribe of Jesus watching
pale lipped men create
tension bells ringing
and climaxing with a tiny chaste taste
~
Who clothed me in this rag tag skin of living words?
Held hostage
~
until falling into the well
of memory is not
a relative of time
~
there is no measure in kinship
~
renascence
so unexpected
is mine
“”””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””
Just a note…the word renascence popped into my head while in my own fever of writing this poem. I’ve had to look it up over and over again as, for some reason, not being familiar with it, I continually forget its meaning. The dictionary says it means birth or rebirth, which fits perfectly. Words just seem to have lives of their own sometimes….
Perfect.
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Thank you Ocean Passage…
I think I may have walked through one of those doors,
Keeping my eyes peeled for the next one.
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the words
muscle memory
come to mind
~
the body takes
over subconsciously
from years of repetition
and rote learning
~
carrying you through
the next stage
of life
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My body knows more
than my mind ever will….
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like a new friend
I see different things
each meeting
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Thank you, my friend!
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“there is no measure in kinship”
~
inexplicable
My mind could wander
for days about those words …
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exquisite writing!
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still radiating
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