Gloves Off

Image by John Currin

Gloves Off

In crackling cold, I had it in my mind
To reach for you and take your little hands.
Outstretching through the space where years are lined,
Blinking away the falling time of sands.
We recognise each other from our prints,
The feel of familiar holding fast.
Our futures hinge on what was, ever since
Lives have been mapped, roles deftly poured and cast.
Fingers have been our hope, our loving hooks,
We've learned silent expression, talk by touch.
Closer than my next breath, I sense your looks,
In bleached and broken days, I have so much.
Your messages to me are clearly signed,
Gloves off, we leave uncertainty behind.

Martin T. Hodges

Posted over on his site Square Sunshine
Listed as #38 over on Magpie Tales 46