The Press of Soles
disturbed by nasty dreams
i refused to give up my right
thumb and the silk-edged blanket
that balanced my left; i’d wet
the bed and wake myself
with screams, slide into
the bottom of mommmydaddy’s
bed, feel the soles of their feet
press against my face and side
these scenes of early fright
i know to be true but the words
for them come from further in,
from the light and space
that anyone who digs
in the dark needs
as the age of monsters and ghosts
receded and i gave thumb back
to hand and slept the night alone,
soon there came the mortal fear
of what the priest and nuns brought
along: original sin
5 thoughts on "The Press of Soles"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Our “further ins” always need hands and feet and silk-edged blankets!
I love ” i gave thumb back/ to hand”!
Yes! Yes! @ Gaby – great turn of phrase!
Love the run-on mommydaddy as one unit,and the description of fear as digging in the dark! Maybe we don’t ever get over the menace of darkness – natural or unnatural. And, I agree with Sylvia and Gaby.