Relative Distance Poem by Natasha Ashwe

Relative Distance



Those knuckles,
On that steering wheel,
In that car,
Across the street,
Touched my cheek,
Ran over my skin,
Once!

Watching them through the windows
His there, mine here,
And time slowed into this moment,
I could flash back so easily,
Into yesterdays of us.

But common sense comes to the rescue,
And says
“Press your panic button,
Tell those memories ‘No! ’”
So the traffic in my head goes crazy
While the street’s green light says go

Those knuckles,
With images inside – outside – my head,
Slide past,
As I move on my lane here,
Without glancing there,
Where they flex,
Once,

[“I swear! ”]

And this car’s drawing closer to home
But I’m thinking of that detour
I’ll have to make to get a drink
Or whatever it’ll take
To feel desirably numb

It seems until these random moments,
Of relative distance between us,
Become nothing more than what they are,
I will dread these sadistic memory-stirring coincidences,
And try my best to … not look out for his car.

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Natasha Ashwe

Natasha Ashwe

Kingston, Ontario.
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