#6

NOT TOUCHING
by E Therese

The translucent reminder of his past love is lurking underneath my closed eyes
and we are not touching, like the bodies

in a shadowy and bent photograph
where the people almost alive in their almost-movements
stuck in eternity of what they were about to do

the entire scene of two glowing beginners, eyes met, intimacy matched
having forgotten there were any others,
refusing to ignore desire

as if the taker had caught them
in a rare moment of slow flight
just before they drifted out of sight
through any door of perfectly laid privacy.
_____________________________________
NOT TOUCHING
by Billy Collins

The valentine of desire is pasted over my heart
and still we are not touching, like things

In a poorly done still life
where the knife appears to be floating over the plate
which is itself hovering over the table somehow,

the entire arrangement of apple, pear, and wineglass
having forgotten the law of gravity,
refusing to be still,

as if the painter had caught them all
in a rare moment of slow flight
just before they drifted out of the room
through a window of perfectly realistic sunlight.