Isabelle Cooper


The Wall


Sometimes in extremity as I remember
I used to turn and stroke the wall

Fingertips against the smoothness
over and over and over

There was some meaning
concealed there and yet

Not hidden, open for the taking
it soothed some desolation in me

To imagine this; that there was speech between us
between my fingers and the wall

Submitted: Monday, July 01, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 24, 2013
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