Acupuncture By Charlotte Reed - Get a Free Blog

Acupuncture
By Charlotte Reed
You told me about herbs.
Ones made from honey, goji and ginseng,
bitter ones, ones that stuck
to the back of your throat even
aft er a glass of water.
I used to touch
your splintery, calloused hands
with the bumps on the tips of your fi ngers
from years of pressing too hard
on needles and guitar strings.
We hid under the blankets
of your bed, in the guest bedroom downstairs
that you never shared with her.
Underneath sheets, you held me
like a child, shadows in the half-light
catching gold in your green eyes,
and your hands grasped my thin wrists, whole:
I was the child.
magus ~ 61 ~ mabus