Roadmaps II

Yes, I know your hands like roadmaps
Your eyes, banded and shadowed as Jupiter
Earth and Mars lying somewhere far behind them and my hands woven between yours
I know the slope of your shoulder like the feel of my well-worn banister
The dip of your collarbone like the topography of my bedstand
The contour of your fingerprints like how I know my own breath at night
I know your footsteps, I have heard them in desolate supermarket aisles and the crackling of pine needles on the forest floor and the smooth jazz my father falls asleep to
Trick question, your voice is a baptism from city smog, railroad tracks make you nervous and ravens are terrible liars
Left. When in doubt, skew left
I know your fingertips like monks know the chase of peace, as cows know rain, as a grandmother's knees know when a storm is rolling in
Have I proved my worth to you?
Is it enough to know your hands like roadmaps?
 

ZoeBee

VT

18 years old

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