A Poem by Brett Moore


all knees and elbows to the touch

wet like the first time i ran home in thick rain

i was too young to remember to look up

or the soft kiss of love's lips on my skin 

contrasting the burning heat of summer

in the wet woods by the lake at Wolf Creek

i was all elbows and knees

no scars to landmark my history

each piece of patchwork less perfect than the next

no crooked nosed smile or chipped tooth

still months away from Darren Brewer's basement 

and the uppercut that fell heavily on the tail of two miller lights

two birds with one stone cold throw

i fell, stood up, we laughed like children

my mother cried quietly

elbows and knees are familiar with bruises

a kind of uncomfortable familiarity 

that begs concrete mercy in a fall

a simple, heavy memory

a hand on a hot stove

a foot turned the wrong way by a root

i wasn't running from anything

it was the joy of the breeze meeting sweat

that kept me moving

the blood dried, scabbed and healed

my skin holds the memory 


You never forget the firsts.

The first time you keep on falling,

you don't remember how long or why

you began to fall in the first place.

Was it her smile, framed in dimples?

The way her hands communicate something more than words

when her fingertips rest lightly on the back of your neck?

The first time your intention fails to meet with meaning.

There's a misfire and the white flag can't unfold quick enough 

to satisfy that climbing, chain linked fence fending off apologies.

She's crying and your stomach screams to be forgiven

but words can't make it past the weight sitting on your chest,

so you vomit instead.

Seeking compassion that isn't yet strong enough to climb the fence,

cross that empty field where you wait, flag in hand,

ready to humbly accept the terms of your surrender.

The first time her words fail her.

Brown eyes meet yours and she's begging you to understand 

that she's forgotten how to breath without you.

And the only way she can fall asleep is in your bed

where the bad dreams and days can't find her anymore.

You can feel it in her fragile grip, she's a part of you 

and for the first time, you are not afraid of permanence.


I will reach the end of days in the firm grip of a lover.

I will feel the simple pains or pleasures, heralded 

by each new ray of sunlight, each new drop of rain.

I will face the inevitable with a veterans confidence,

our fingers tied tightly together.

And whether or not the hand loses strength,

her eyes made a promise that death can't pardon,

if our hearts truly believe in perfection.

© 2017 Brett Moore

Author's Note

Brett Moore
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Featured Review

Oh took my breath away...

I am a believer in true love, romance, and the sheer beauty of imperfections...
The flaws we attain with each "first" is so endearing...

Reading this slowly and absorbing every word was not only a beautiful experience, it is also
a reflective journey....intimately woven.

A fantastic write, my friend!!! :)
Into my favorites. ~xoxo~

Posted 9 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


Yes, perfection, life's journey in a breath. This is imbued with sentimentality and a soft hand, very deft and skilled. Well done!

Posted 4 Years Ago

Beautiful take the reader back with you, enjoyed :) x

Posted 5 Years Ago

Oh wow, I am just about speechless over this write! This is the most refreshingly original and pleasant piece of writing I have read in quite awhile!

I love your original perspective (elbows/knees)

...and then the various ways you describe falling as well as failing.. clever play on words as well as interchangeable actions at times...

I love how in the descriptions of imperfections, your poetry was made “perfect” by the resolution.

Your imagery was impeccable, crisp and descriptions were vulnerable, authentic and vivid.

I’m a big time vocabulary nerd, so I was really pleased with your hand-chosen and careful affluence for words.

Nothwithstanding the utter gorgeous texture of life and love and romance. This piece has everything from the roots of familiar raw childhood firsts to the aspiration of a life fulfilled at your deathbed.. and overall, like I said, such a refreshing positive outlook.

Beautiful way with words, thoughts and life experiences.

Posted 5 Years Ago

hello Brett, I thoroughly enjoyed this poem! You felt the sense of time and the power of a true love. Thank You for the read! Best Wishes Brett Moore

Posted 5 Years Ago

A simply magnificent piece of work that radiates perception and empathy.

Posted 5 Years Ago

You take the reader into another world. Beautifully written

Posted 5 Years Ago

This was favorite line was
The first time your intention fails to meet with meaning
......that was so lovely and bursting with honesty

Posted 9 Years Ago

Emotions run deep throughout this poem. The striking image of "elbows and knees" stays prominent throughout, keeping the reader focused on the newness and awkwardness felt. It was enlightening to read a male perspective, to understand the inner turmoil felt, said beautifully in the lines: "she's crying and your stomach screams to be forgiven but words can't make it past the weight sitting on your chest so you vomit instead " The final stanza was superb in it's entirety. Very well done :) Penny

Posted 9 Years Ago

Interesting and your passion is visible in your words

Posted 9 Years Ago

Now this is poetry - thanks!

Posted 9 Years Ago

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23 Reviews
Shelved in 7 Libraries
Added on May 9, 2013
Last Updated on October 29, 2017


Brett Moore
Brett Moore

Dallas, TX

A million lives in as many sentences. more..


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