tuckova

ideas, old gossip, oddments of all things

Under your thumb,
wrapped around your finger.
Not because you want it that way but
because you thought it would be safer
because they said so;

Nape grazed by knuckles
it’s colder than you expect
under a street lamp and
worse, the darkness between street lamps

footsteps behind you

Where are you going with this?
You just want to go home.

Sweaty leather in your palm –
a trip you took once, a souvenir
of a place you wanted to go so much
you didn’t mind when you got somewhere else.
Remember that, remember how that felt.

Teeth cutting into your skin; why?
Maybe there are no footsteps,
maybe everything echoes in your head,
maybe what unlocks your secrets
can’t also be what shields them.

No one thing is enough;
nothing is enough.
Do you hold the keys or
are you grasping at straws?
After this we can talk about "clutch".

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2 responses to “Lock”

  1. Madeleine Avatar
    Madeleine

    Wow.
    That is the extent of my abilities as a poetry critic, but I know what I like.

    Like

  2. Rob Avatar

    I really like this, especially the first line…controlled and out of control. It really sets the tone.

    Like

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