Thursday, November 10, 2011

These emptier fingers.


Oft-times
when I’m asked what I fear
I try in absolute earnest
to clamber around for one
and prop it up on semi-proud display
because I know it and so well, too
as we have stare out competitions
every Thursday mid-morning
just to familiarize ourselves
with the other
feign bravery, minutes on end
before slinking away.

That one fear used to be paper cuts
but even it has lost
the silent wince.
Even it.

Just tonight I found one, though.
If I were to run out of words,
hands and typing fingers left empty,
what would I do with this desire?
This empty shell of a man would still
wander, but fail to share about
it later. Perhaps I shouldn’t write
quite so much, just in case. Perhaps
tonight I’ll cozy up to a neighbor’s TV set,
stop with these thoughts.

The very expert ones know
ignoring your fear gets you
both everywhere and nowhere.

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