Excuse my hand (II)

entry picture

Love

a term I seldom use

 

Summer clothes

Packed in tight

Memories

A voice declares

"Doors closing"

Faces stilled

 

Such quiet

hushed phenomena 

What would our ancestors 

make of this crushing

closet?

Strangers allowing strangers

their Intimate space

Expelled air 

The body's breath

 

A nervous cough suppressed 

A weary sigh

eyes meeting 

eyes avoiding

"Doors opening".

 

Relief 

and the memory of

breasts against arms

buttocks pressed into 

groins

Sweat

 

We go our separate ways

A bit like love.

 

Words and image:  Tommy Carroll

 

◄ "excuse my hand..."

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Comments

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Wolfgar Miere

Thu 28th Mar 2019 06:21

Good morning Tommy,

Love, like being trapped in an elevator. Sometimes it's a relief to just get out, if so can it be love?

Good ideas Tommy,

David.

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