8 minutes

I’m watching hands curled into their foetal position, cannoned across necessary space, My knees bounce to arch my body away. Another is swinging low, the red glove running across my cheek like a matchbox. The fist I ducked earlier comes back with vengeance booming into my nose. Mic check one two one two. 
My entire being at war over two thoughts
fight. Move.

I hold your hand while you sleep. Run my thumb across your knuckles, put your hand in mine and compare the difference in size. I declare your hands as safe, nestle my nose gently as I can into your palm and rest. In the morning, when you wake up an stretch, that same palm collides into my head. Sorry sorry sorry you say.
It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay.

Pay the book no mind, I’m watching hands. fingernails climb n palm paragliding back. They repeat and my eyes zoom in every time till they squeeze her side. I feel it in mine. Just above the hips. Just below the ribs. Unlocks my jaw, blossoms my lips. too close for a cafe, I’m a world away, a table back, stroking the page. 
All my senses woken up in the middle of the day with no one touch.

with skin set alight I go back to my reading
keeping smiles out of my peripheral vision.