no. 61

(i must admit, i am unabashedly sappy in this poem–also, i’m a sucker for the marvel of the human body)

envy

a bead of sweat follows its

preordained path

and comes to rest just shy

of the nexus between your ulna and

lateral carpals.

is it wrong, that i am envious?

 

as in that old song

from a time of mellow grooves

and emotional kitsch

the cosmos seems to revolve

around you

ever desiring that closeness

just like me

 

but i prefer the earthly

the corporeal comparisons

even as i adore

the heavenly constellations

in the dizzying greatness of the passing sky

and so i peruse my encyclopedia

of anatomical maps

searching

 

i become expert in palpation

familiarizing myself with differences

ligaments and tendons

cartilage and bones

muscles and organs

the workings of that universe

just so that i may perceive

you more physically

more accurately

 

that i may divine how best to

insinuate myself into

your sinew and viscera

to house myself at the

cusp that joins

the physical to the spiritual

 

perhaps at the solar plexus

not the heart, as one might imagine

i marvel at the roadways that

carry nervous impulse

and wish that i could travel those

same paths

but they are too complex for me to

wrap myself around

 

so i focus outward

allowing my gaze to follow

the external path

of that moisture that travels

so leisurely, languidly

to find its place on your wrist

 

and then i catch it with my finger

and the closeness of that touch

is just enough

(written 6 november 2017)