he says, not moving.
I smile. I've had a stiff neck
for days. A small sacrifice for closeness.
The human mind is a funny thing,
compromising pains of the body
to soothe itself. The things we do for closeness.
His arm, that isn't numb, rests on a rib
that hurts when pressed, but I never
want him to move, I want him to
keep touching, always, I'll take pain for closeness.
Megan, thank-you for sharing your blog. I really enjoyed your writing. I have always felt that free verse can only be written well by a female because without all the contextual aspects of meter and rhyme to make a poem entertaining free verse only has the emotion of the poem to draw the reader in. Your writing reminds me of anne sexton, your emotion is expressed so well that the poem becomes all consuming. Never think that your writing is not worthwhile because it is. It is more than just good it is art.
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