[Mister Saint]: 79.Poetry.My Other Me

Another poem in my 'Tracie' series.

"My Other Me"

At times, my spine desires a hug.
It wants the will to flee its cage
of bone and blood and flesh.
Only you can wrap your arms
around the inner you and I
and give it what it craves.
Your voice illuminates
the sky inside my skull
like fleeting, flashing firecrackers
booming overhead.

People ask me now and then,
(their eyes are those of slobbering dogs,
warm and thoughtful, slightly dim)
"Who are you talking to, young man?"

As if they really want to know.

The comfort we can claim to share
is not for dogs, it's yours and mine.
The sneaking sendings,
quiet words of solace,
passing just beneath our scalp
where skin and hair and human beings
refuse to tread.