Where Are Your Hands

Her shoulders stopped living near her ears.

Weight did not send her elsewhere.

She does not know how to fake that.

She watched him step closer

and did not step back—

not because she wanted more,

because she does not know how to make less.

Her heart does not speak casually.

It does not survive being opened

and told it is misunderstood.

She cannot.

s.g.

This poem is one of two in a series of Sheridan's original poems.

Edition 01: Where Your Hands Are

Edition 02: Where Are Your Hands