How do I write with these frantic fingers
Left index plugs tearing right aorta
Right hand holds closed ripping left ventricle
I am hopelessly, entirely bursting at the seams.
How do I write with these full hands
Clasped to caresses, tangled in touches,
Hands feeling my hopeless preoccupation.
These full, useless hands continue to type nothing.
How do I write with this soft mind,
this bubble-lettered, arrow-through-heart, notebook doodle replacement.
Hopelessly, entirely, embarrassingly infatuated.
And how would I ever stop writing about yo
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The featured image accompanying this poem, entitled ‘Uninspired’, have been used with the permission of artist Patricio Betteo.
