crested with the color of demons
those arches that ride on expression
and flushed petal of hearing
cradling my finger feeling it glow warmth
across the bridge of bone
concealing a slow-moving muscle
our hands were fabric-bound
by the friend who drifted out when talk did
to move into the open in the other
put hollow in hollow to fill somewhat
when words failed my head
ricocheted off thought
to land on shoulder
past forehead
you lifted me up and back
