Exquisite Hands The Sunday Whirl #218

The windows remain open for
timely renewals and sighs.
I recall I am alive
when the music filters through my autumn sweater.

I look at the horizon
it exists and bends with
what I can no longer hold.
I am alone
only in one step,
only in one memory.

Then someone with his face visits and smiles,
he lies on the bed and I notice his exquisite hands.

This is what remains;
my uncertain nakedness lives imagined,
the premonition of not being accurate enough
in the last voices of an embroidery.

Vainly I point toward his body.
My best atmosphere to the heart.

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9 responses to “Exquisite Hands The Sunday Whirl #218

  1. Love those “timely renewals and sighs.”

  2. An atmosphere of thoughtful tensions and emotions. Delightful.

  3. When you love someone everything about them is exquisite. What a delightful read this was.

  4. Two lines stand out for me – I recall I am alive and The last voices of an embroidery..so very beautiful and yes can feel your words and empathise in some way..though we may not be able to speak out loud we always have a voice inside (i hope)…beautiful poem Pamela and thank you for your visit and comment..hope you are ok too xo

  5. I really love how you focus on the exquisite hands.. there are those details, could be a smell could be hands, or the hollow of a nape.. 🙂

  6. This is excellent.

  7. “the last voices of embroidery” – beautiful imagery throughout.

  8. Vainly I point toward his body.
    My best atmosphere to the heart.

    Great ending Pamelita! The natural attraction to the human flesh warm and tender is the best measure towards love and affections!

    Hank

I appreciate all comments.

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