I miss your skin

I miss your skin

the planes of shoulder blades
layers of muscle overlying them
the trapezius sweeping up to the base of the skull
and down to the tenth vertebrae
like a wing pointed inwards
on your back
and attached to bones

more and more in clinic
I pull out Netter’s beautiful drawings
and show people the bones
and that the bones are not just floating
in a sea of muscle and organs
every bone is attached to muscles
to tendons to ligaments
together in an elaborate
working system
and if one muscle is torn too loose
or tightens to protect itself
and heals scarred calcified
too short
it pulls on the other muscles
and tendons and bones

I miss your skin
your muscle
your tendons
your ligaments
your bones

and all the rest


I took the photograph in the boatyard in 2016. Sometimes I dream I have feathers….



Go on

I must go on without you
the Beloved opens the path before me
let the past fall behind, the clear parts
and the murky, we alter each memory when we
pull the file in our brain and refile it,
I have duty you see, though I will miss you
terribly and keep inviting you along
as our paths diverge by millimeters
I wonder if you mind perhaps you are relieved
or perhaps you refuse to feel whether you mind
or not, we walk in parallel for now and can still
touch fingertips across the gap, more than
fingertips actually, but not for much longer.
I am still small compared to you yet when I said
to the Beloved that I don’t see how to
carry all of this, my back was infinitely broad and strong
for a period, as if a dream. Kiss me and leave, then,
if you must and I will love you always.

The picture is of early morning fog clearing 1/10/16.