tonight, a poem
If I were a wristwatch
Gliding up and down your arm
with each movement,
Your gentle skin grazing my metal surface,
I'd beat for you each day
Calm, but never at rest.
Your fingers would circle my band
as you lift me from the bureau each morning
To reunite yourself,
Carefully wrap around your skin
And fasten my binding clasps,
Slide me slowly down to my Niche
just above your wrist.
Your eyes would meet my face twenty-
thirty times a day,
Staring often beyond, through to my interior,
Brown orbs following my graceful hands,
Steady as your pulse deep
Beneath your skin.
Reaching out from my center, each second pointing
To another part of you.
To be your wristwatch-
First touched in the morning
And last looked upon at night.