Home

Untouchable

 


I see her by the fireside
crying softly into an old sweater,
I hear the quiet sobs and sniffs
but when I reach out my hand
to touch her she shivers.
I cannot comfort, just watch and listen
beside her on this old settee,
I cannot feel the fire’s warmth
cannot smell the perfume in her hair
cannot speak in ways that she can hear.
Clinging to her body heat
desperate to hold on to the memories
I move close, thigh to thigh
place my arm approximately
round her waist.

Shivering again
she rises,
turns up the fire.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: