Firsts.
The call that speaks of nothing,
brimming on whisperings,
breathing into the receiver.
Delighted the airwaves connect us
please don't hang up.
The otherwise mundane tales
become epic. To share in my
daily struggles, the private
sessions of our gossips, so
suddenly you know me.
I'll cover my face with giggling palms
and you'd recall the exact location of my moles
I'd thank you for your chivalry.
Explore carefully my fragile anatomy
you'd feel you're walking on eggshells
New gestures reminding you of
first times - like tying shoestrings
and, heh, utterly failing.
poem by Kim Dang
Added by Poetry Lover
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