Tuesday, December 14, 2010


With my hands free.
Words drip from a pen.
Letters vowel at the moon.
I live between these fingers.
Where touch is a circuit.
The energy of mood.
If i were all thumbs.
I'd hitchhike across the sea.
Our pinkies swear.
Rings engage.
Inside a church.
Under this steeple.
Nestled in the palms.
Counting the digits.
Ten, the perfect number.