Small Desire

All you really want
is to be touched.

Listening to someone;
feeling the air move
when they move;

not enough.

Let the familiar, the unexpected but
welcome hand come
to rest on your shoulder;

it’s enough. 

Let yourself
be spooned, even for
a moment, while half-
asleep and half-weeping,
face turned to the wall
in a dark room;

it’s enough.

You would like 
more of course:

someone listening; someone
to stir your skin, 
to be present
in all your spaces;

but a hand on your hair,
unheralded, asking for nothing
other than to offer itself?


About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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