Monday, October 5, 2015

2015 OctPoWriMo #5: What Passes Between



What Passes Between

We fold our words
on lined paper
in pencil
we’ve etched
into the grooves,
smudged with finger
and thumb and the careless
exercise of habit.  They are ordinary
words like “please” and “maybe”
and “overmuch.”  You make
fun of me for the last
but trade it back to me
over lunch trays
and diet cola.

We don’t need the
words anymore, or the paper.
We pass them between us,
no longer needing to
open the page
nor read.

We know them
by heart,
and repeat.



Poet's Note:  Prompt #5.  Relationships.

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