Object

I simply cannot understand how so much love

can fail, can be set aside like a blue glass jar.

It's not easy, being so translucent and smooth,

set up to dazzle you. Though I admit, I've always

been loved from afar. It's my forte: the gaze

my truest longest touch. It's the body that

lets me down, that weeps and trembles.

Is that what you feel? The terror of it,

of so much hope and failure held in. Is that why

you hold me once and not again for months,

sending smiles like hot knives-

or is it light-blazing through me?