With a hand oppressed by the thought of your skin.
At a stretch my fingers find the back of your palm
One tentative touch and not a blink.
Slowly, your gaze is brought upon your skin,
You see nothing but the body untouched by my pain.
Without remorse or regret, you glisten in the sun.
You draw your eyes toward the pavement,
Where you may ignore the thought of the lulling horizon.
Oh, the inevitability of your focus.
I'm still lying here though.
My face pressed against cold stone.
Through thick air you turn
and see me here.
For the last time you stand still.
In the weight of your helplessness.
For the last time,