Alphabet Soup Minuscule

J.C. Scheff

Finger Print Hearts


This is the place where we love.

Where you are like comfort food,

Resting openly upon a small breast,

Like fingerprint hearts on a dusty Pontiac.

 

This is the place the fire is censored.

Where the only cries are that of your voice,

That comes through in reverse,

On an old mixed tape.

 

In the blackness of my winter,

I am hunger less and without answer.

Will you have a match?

When your light sputters and dies.

This burden you carry like an ant in June.

 

Tonight, I turn back the clock,

I am without reaction and wings.

The hands move, like swings in an empty playground.

Where we trip on the road,

And get up to brush the spiders off.

 

This is where we create love,

Bodies pass like masses of air,

Creating a storm that runs through our veins.

Leaving us with stillness,

In search of the sun.  

 

 

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9 thoughts on “Finger Print Hearts

  1. these lines –> “This burden you carry like an ant in June.” & “Tonight, I turn back the clock,/ I am without reaction and wings.”

    make me want to “fall back” again & again. exceptional.

  2. I’ve turned the clock back to many times, but sometimes it never gets far enough back. so, I make every attempt to turn it forward because that is the only hope that there is. and I do see the hope in this. wonderful imagery alpha:)

    • It’s great to feel more rested. It’s even greater to feel the words slowly begin to flow once again. They were lost-with my muse for a great while. It is then I realized that muse is all around me.

      • I understand as to the words being lost in the muse. it can take awhile for it to resurface whether personal or other. good to hear that you are rested. that is a nice feeling. I’ve noticed you have had a nice influx of posts lately. that is nice to see coming from you. a nice alpha and omega dip in the waters of muse.

      • I see the same from you-it’s good to be able to put out. I strongly dislike not being able to write.

  3. So beautiful and moving 🙂 like I’ve commented before, I’m left wanting to know more. so intrigued. I love these lines.
    “In the blackness of my winter,
    I am hunger less and without answer.”

  4. Fantastico! Love the line…”Like fingerprint hearts on a dusty Pontiac.”

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