Posts Tagged ‘Nerves’

Dark fields

of coppery wires,

thin, curled, and soft as bedding in a cradle.

Mere glimpses

of patterned, colored cloth.

Stretches of cream

creating uniformity.

 

A red frog leaps in my belly.

Linen wash cloths dipped in warm water are pressed,

delicately, against my cheeks,

my neck.

The frog is kicking,

reaching for his wife

who is also jumping wildly,

pounding against my ribs.

 

I turn away

to simply breathe

and cool the frogs,

pull away from the linen.

 

I swallow,

then take the next step

toward you.

Advertisements

So, this is how you make my heart go-

a nonstop drum. Knots in my stomach

and blood rising to color my face.

At times it seemed like we were

the only people in the room,

and I smiled.

I smiled at the little things you did,

whether you noticed them or not;

I smiled out of nerves

because you were so calm, and I was not;

I smiled like a fool

because we talked, and you listened.

This is a new experience for me-

not the bundle of nerves under my ribs,

to which you give an electric shock;

not the reddening of my face,

but the happiness from something so simple

and how I don’t mind these feelings

and I surprise myself

by how much I want them to stay.

We let the once overflowed well run dry.

But now, I’ve opened up a brown parcel,

opened the door of the cage and loosed birds,

anxiously pried open a slimy clam,

opened a gray can without a label.