Talking To Skeletons, poem by David Dumouriez at
Taton Moïse

Talking To Skeletons

Talking To Skeletons

written by: David Dumouriez


You look, intent, at face and eye,
yet after can say not of who you saw.
You watch your fingers flex and crack
and feel your toes make rhythms on the floor.

You loose your collar and your tie
and so facilitate the flow of breath.
Then, slow, in mimicry of ‘cool’,
you try to separate your brow from sweat.

Then comes the nod, the friendly pat,
and under scrutiny you take your feet.
Held up by legs that can’t be quelled,
you then emit a disconcerting squeak.


She stands, a monument to flesh,
a paragon: soft-lipped, full-shaped, and tall.
Her being makes you feel alive,
that knowing her could compensate for all.

Afar from her, you feel a need
to change your dreams to actuality.
You form a speech, then keep each word
in readiness for immortality.

But when at last you share her space,
your body cannot find a natural pose;
your facial muscles hyperact,
your tongue produces words that no one knows.


But was the thought or feeling ever known
that merely you address yourself to bone?
Was it perceived by your intelligence,
you do no more than talk to skeletons?

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