Internal Dialogue

He gingerly placed his hand
between my shoulder blades
to lead me out of the room,
and I was so surprised by the
sudden and foreign action
that I almost laughed out loud.

And then I thought
Were you nervous?
It wasn’t a tentative grip
so it came off confident
at the very least.
Did you worry
I might flinch?
Were you disappointed
you didn’t move lower?
Were you not thinking
about it at all?

Am I making
all of this up?
– 5/28/15
You spend so many years randomly writing poems about the guy whose hand always rested on the small of your back that when a guy rests his hand somewhere else it literally jolts you, in more ways than one.


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