I look deep into his eyes and drift off and away,
wishing his lips were touching mine,
and his hands caressing my body softly,
my hands beginning to run through his tousled hair,
him holding me close and strong now,
he grabs my hand and kisses it,
says je t'aime for me in French
his bluish, silver eyes peer into mine,
and I see into his soul.
He loves me.
Thereof, I am touching his hand when,
I am being grabbed, and beat, and pulled down,
then dragged away as he stands there, his hand
out to me in a desperate way,
but he doesn't budge.
I drift off way towards the dark, and see light. I am blinded, and
in this light,
I see no one. I am alone in this white room and no one is here. I have been alone all along.
The bell rung and I am not moving. Time for lunch, and yet
all I see is my hands,
my ugly hands,
and I press my right hand on my lips,
I notice the pain has returned.
I kiss my hand
and stand up, then walk off.
© Copyright 2016 Emily Johnson. All rights reserved.
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