"... I trusted you to understand the braille of her lips, "

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Chris recommends these on line literary sites.

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Contact
Mr. Tannlund

Hands

I'll hide you in my pockets, hang you
limp against my sides. Odd
jobs are all you'll get now - waving
flags, stirring coffee, lifting
cigarettes or pens.

I trusted you to understand
the braille of her lips, to read
the fine lines of her hair,
to caress the fragile pages
of her arms and breasts, the straightness
of her perfect-bound spine,
to memorize her Scripture, every word
a trembling revelation, a Holy confidence exchanged
in the intimate finger-spellings of love.

You could have touched her Truth, then, traced
some paraphrase of mine - But you,
you self-serving critics,
could only deconstruct her, skim her for allusions,
and let her slip, a faithless translation,
right through your arrogant, posturing fingers.