Skin – poem for dVerse

Fmme writes poems

My bare feet are cold against the kitchen floor.

I chose soft clothes today,
as if my body is a child
in need of comfort.

I’ve held on tight – the kettle handle
smooth beneath my palm –
me clinging on, like it’s
a lifeline linking me
to planet Earth

my feet are bare against the cold kitchen floor

I closed my hands around the cup –
heat almost pain,
pain almost heat –
but nothing warms me –

I trailed my fingers
over the wooden table,
letting the faint, fine ridges
of the grain be felt
letting the texture soothe me

my cold feet bare against the kitchen floor

I chose soft clothes today,
to hold me like a mother’s arms,
cradling me.

I’m hosting at dVerse tonight, and we’re exploring the sense of touch. Come and join in – it’s the poets’ pub, and it’s alway good to…

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