Emily Gaskin




The painted shadows,
circle of dark pines and darting stars --
this, the face that was yours searching mine,
the tentative outreach of your hand
a caress of disbelief --
uncertain that this was to feel,
to know what wind is
when all one has touched were walls,

when touch is the confession
you never could make.

But light comes,
shadows recede,
pulling back across your face,
and I see only what was there before.

Your hand falls from my cheek --
an uneasy distancing from feeling
and a reminder of your invincibility.
With nothing to lose, you could only win,

but you do not know
that this is winning.
I cannot stop you
from withdrawing silently
before this too can be lost,

from pretending until it is so
that I am no more than a warning
whispering what once was human.




Author Bio

Emily Gaskin currently lives in Tallahassee, FL. Her poetry has previously appeared in Strange Horizons, Pif Magazine, Moxie, and elsewhere. For more info about Emily's work, please visit her web site





"Aubade" Copyright © 2003 Emily Gaskin. All rights reserved.
Published by permission of the author.


This page last updated 01-26-03.

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