1.
There are many spaces
Between here and where you are.
There are ships
And there are balls of yarn –
Warm glows from inside the windows
Of the houses of strangers.
I am trying to decide
Whether this plant is alive
Or dead;
And I come to no conclusions.
2.
When someone (something)
Brushes against
Your fingertips,
The shapes the dragonflies make
Are far more wonderful
Than twilight.
Because it is a strange touch,
And your fingertips
Don't know
What to think.
3.
The blankets are so cold here,
Where I am –
Oceans away,
Where the warmest glows
Are never within your reach.
The dragonflies are dying.
And I am starting to appreciate
The pinks
And the oranges
A little too much –
I think I am losing touch
With you.
There are many spaces
Between here and where you are.
There are ships
And there are balls of yarn –
Warm glows from inside the windows
Of the houses of strangers.
I am trying to decide
Whether this plant is alive
Or dead;
And I come to no conclusions.
2.
When someone (something)
Brushes against
Your fingertips,
The shapes the dragonflies make
Are far more wonderful
Than twilight.
Because it is a strange touch,
And your fingertips
Don't know
What to think.
3.
The blankets are so cold here,
Where I am –
Oceans away,
Where the warmest glows
Are never within your reach.
The dragonflies are dying.
And I am starting to appreciate
The pinks
And the oranges
A little too much –
I think I am losing touch
With you.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.

windswift

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