“Tell Me” | A Poem from the Publisher’s Desk
Tell Me
tell me I’m beautiful in the morning sun
and I won’t know what to say
but that I love you
tell me you’re proud of all my hard work
and I’ll work harder today
and so, the day’s begun
our canvases of skin
coffee and hot blood stuffed
and stretched to hold space
for each other
stiches of grace
to understand what is happening
tell Sir John that we are still standing
so that he may validate me too
I’m a bit turbulent
and you’re a bit stagnant
and there’s something about your company
that makes my body feel alone
but when you tell me
what I want to hear,
things shift inside my bones
and I really want to hold your hand while you
tell me my skeleton is very strong
so that I may feel fit and high functioning and
tell me my bone density will last so long
continuing to protect all my soft parts
and to move them
Please hand me my mug
and I will hand you my heart
I have carried this poem around for an unknown number of years. Probably three or four. I’m really bad about dating my writing. You’d think that keeping miscellaneous poems on my smartphone notes app would take care of recording the date, but every time I read old notes and make any small edit, the date changes. That has happened to this poem.
I reread it last night and for the first time assumed the speaker was talking to herself. And I love how that changed my interpretation of it.
I recorded a version of it for you all. Hope you love it.
