5.11.2010

Overkill #9 - Original Poetry by Maggie Rich, '11

My fingers and toes can

My fingers and toes don’t agree
on how best to feel.

Hands choose to run themselves
over stubble and through atmosphere.

Their bones shuffle to hold the
ungrateful palm of another;

both will never understand what
they hold between them.

Feet move with the earth,
leather and wool between skin and soil.

Calloused pads delight
In the hermitry of old shoes.

Dancing inches away from another,
Courting without a single touch.

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