Fingertips

by Brad Davis

I want to sign to you over the phone
Or grasp your lower arm and suddenly you’d
            Realize exactly what I was saying
But some men
            Back in the dark ages
Decided that we should communicate by sound instead
We’ve got light and a world
            Traveling at the speed thereof
So why can’t I feel you right now?
            Silken skin wrapped in calloused claws
                        Warmth radiating
I can feel the language of your body
            And I want to write a story on your skin
With delicate taps of my fingertips

Notes
Poetry
Published in Windfall Vol. 32
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