sleeping beauty
after Job 28:10-11,13

skin.
"And his eyes see anything precious"

the chill of your skin draws heat 
from my fingertips, the long smooth
side of my hand as it glides along your arm
to rest 
on the back of your wrist. i hold it there,
mistrusting its stillness, willing my warmth
into you.

blood.
"He dams up the streams from flowing"

should i push an awl into 
your side, 
it would draw forth in its
wake nothing. 
this discernment does little
to quell the anticipation that
your blood
would pursue, 
modesty ravaged,
infuriated and exposed.

bone.
"What is hidden he brings out to light"

one thing i know, what is secret will be 
made known,
and the bone which supported us
will endure,
bare.

spirit.
"Man does not know its value, 
Nor is it found in the land of the living"

your eyes can now see,
though dry and 
colorless, what 
i need to know. you are there,
sensing my hand 
which strokes yours
begging an exchange,
my warmth
for your knowledge.

©2000 Timothy A. Clark