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Saturday, 19 April 2014

Therapeutic Touch

Therapeutic Touch

Sharp, serrated, pointed kitchen knife
Held steady and with care
As the pain, if cut, would most certainly sear

Smooth, cold, aluminium towel rail 
Clasped within my anxious hands
As into the mirror I hesitate, then peer

Slender, dry, crisp cigarette 
Rolled between my numb finger tips
It's addictive toxins;  I should, but do not fear 

Jaded, warmed, flagged pavement 
Beaneath my bare, tired feet
Confirms to me I'm real, that I'm actually here

Prickly, yet soft,  scotch pine needles 
Dance, tickling, through my fingers
Inviting me to breathe in their scent, both fresh and clear   

Debbie Razey 2014