Written Connections

She likes to write with her fingers

She wouldn’t do it any other way

        Enough with the pencil    touching the paper, pressing

        where she knows it leaves a mark, it registers

She feels the sand

giving under her letters

        Brown sugar but with the unmistakable sound of more

        A synthetic upset by the sea

She traces essays on your back

when you sleep she picks up the words

        spreading them through memory

        daubing remembrances with her voice

The fingertip against the cold glass pane after she opened

her mouth so close and without touchingshe blew on the other side of the rain

        with her finger she erases the breath

        and with her hands she defogs

hands that clarify

rubbing themselves against the eyes they too can erase

                        Silences are part of the alphabet