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Touching Irony
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(c)
2004
Aire Celeste Norell
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You are a different texture of skin—rough back, familiar smoothness only near the curves of your hips a different angle of face—wider, longer eye-folds, shorter lashes, thinner lips, pointed tongue Your face doesn't speak familiar language your cheeks redden—slightly not a woman's kiss not a confident man's You are a calm, ironic voice silent making love Your fingers found their way into confidence speaking eloquently I heard intimate knowledge inspiring trust—in the silence I listened to your fingers Were they liars? opportunists? jesters? explorers? technicians? You are distant now gloved friendliness— might as well be fingerless |