The last time we were together
in your brown leather chair
I traced your watch as you talked.
I loved the width
and the way the metal circle blended
into your skin.
I studied the style of the numbers
so the gold slashes could be
more easily imagined on a day like today.
I am glad when I saw you last
my nails were long and pastel,
framed in your baked-wheat hands,
the picture is easy to recall
even now, in the dark.
Next time we are together,
I will listen better, especially
if you will tell me again
about the times you lay
with legs and arms stretched
against the earth.
I think I heard you say
that you pull strength and direction
from the ground, but
I was busy studying the lines
of our fingers and realizing
they were so much like our paths,
curving near but never crossing
where they should.
we are together in your brown leather chair
I will listen better.
Kaylan Jordan is busy being a mom, fine-tuning her
midlife crisis, and running a business in Oklahoma, but she chooses to
vacation and write in her villa just outside of reality.