Swing

Short bit I wrote at the end of a confusing day . . .

 

The way you sit against the wall,

And talk to me all afternoon.

 

Your vivid hair,

Alive eyes,

Moving lips,

Delicate hands.

 

Sit close enough to smell your sweet breath

 

Our nervous giggles,

Your nervous words,

My nervous thoughts.

 

At the end of the day,

Your detached goodbyes.

 

Almost too much to bear.

 

My pounding heart,

When you look at me.

 

My tears hidden,

Behind my fear.

 

Your serious tone,

Your formidable gestures.

 

My pure pain.

 

Our vegan cake and melon soda,

Your swinging to high,

The swing might come crashing down.

 

The way you rock us back and fourth,

Your feet that push away the ground.

 

My breath, I dare not move at all,

You ask, you stop the swing.

 

I ask for more.

 

You fly us up,

 

I’m terrified that we will fall.

Reviews

[Chiquita]

I have been on this swing for sue. It is not the most pleasant ride. The highs are grand and the lows are so low. The falling downward and wondering if you will ever defy gravity again leaves a sick and hollow feeling in your gut. Then at the lowest of spots, you look up and there is hope again.

This has touched my heart in a great way today. It met me where I was at and made me smile. Thank you.