Potatoes

Kitchen Window

I was choking / suffocating / drowning
Then your touch made me feel so strongly / that I was there /
Your voice gave me my language /
A used  gift re-wrapped / made new / words heard afresh /
As you commanded the soldiers of vocabulary
Though the troops weren’t originally your own

In the bends of our bodies
We surrounded the hollow spaces / stared down the void / realised
That it could be penetrated / pushed apart / made whole / without having
To give yourself away / /

A shared life, uncompromised

I am watching you now / as you weld potatoes into food /
Hovering around a hot stove /

Unaware

That I love you unconditionally /
Because I want to
Because it feels good

 

more by INDIA DOYLE

Photograph by Thomas Lefebvre

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