100 Words on Grace
“Your button is broken,” you whisper.
Your fingers, full of grace, reach toward me, lingering at the top button of my cardigan. My breath snares in my chest. This is not the first time you've touched me… why does this always happen? When will the air stop crackling around your dark head? When will time cease to fracture when you stand close? When will the time come when my touch doesn’t elicit a gasp from your throat? When will I be immune to you…and you to me? I close my eyes, and a whisper burns bright in my skull…”Never.”
(Image: "Boise Wet Leaf". Michael Wood)
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Some of you will recognize the "100 word" gig. Please join me in introducing it to blogspot. For those of you not familiar, write your own 100 words on the topic. If you don't have a blog of your own, cut and paste into the comments here.
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