Lick the potash with contempt <br />I'm made into <br /> <br />A silent frown of balled up yarn <br />and wood grain <br /> <br />My cold hands stretch these elastic hours <br />into days that pass <br />two at a time <br /> <br />I lie around <br />trying to make sentences and love myself <br /> <br /> <br />Contaminated by tinnitus <br />As expectant <br /> <br />as a dog wearing uncontained excitement <br /> <br /> <br />and let down when the sun sets without a bone <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />My own, <br />locked together with bailing wire <br />that work in vain to show how <br />much you mean to me <br /> <br /> <br />and ache, <br />because of all the fun we're missing.<br /><br />Sara Fielder<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/elastic-hours/
