I'm not ready

You nibble breasts like wood ear mushrooms
They are always about you but more
I’m thin-skinned and paper light
today even the sky is thin
pale pink and translucent
I arrived before you
showered with heavy arms
There could be coffee
one step at a time up stairs
the heavy umbrella of a body
the cackle of laughing voices
the interruptions
I remember holding you close
almost falling asleep on your arm,
I swore I could hear
summer crickets
my hand was sweating against yours

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2 Responses to I'm not ready

  1. I love this. So much here. “The heavy umbrella of a body.” Wow.

    • rachvb says:

      The bones of a poem perhaps. It may grow feet and fingers and real wings some day.
      Thank you! I love the bones. I love making the bones.
      xo

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