Yarrow House

Thin Space

Into that infinitesimal space between me and you, 
between this skin and that skin, this heart beating 
and that heartbeat, into that gaping abyss, 
I fall again and again, plummet again,
 
stones tumbling into the depths, no sound
returning to trace the descent. Scouting the edge 
between us, trying to leap across that gap.
I gauge the width, pile stones, lay lines, 
 
and watch them all vanish with the wave 
of an unreadable hand, slide away and down
again, as if for the first time, into that space,
 
as thin as a thought, nothing certain 
but this skin, this heart beating, 
this perpetual rising, rising to contact.
 
Published in Borderlands, 1995

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Onetime reproduction for non-resale purposes permitted by the author with the following credit line: © Judith Yarrow, 2013