We speak of touch as if it has another meaning
something that can be erased by
a downpour, by the absence of
a body, as if skin cannot remember
the difference in tenderness, in
affection. We speak of touch as
something tangible, as if eyes
cannot move over the contour of a
face, over the distance that keeps
us in a holding pattern. Meaning
is the dictionary of unspoken words
we have written and kept underneath
separate beds, carpet fibers stuck
in between the pages like pressed
leaves—our cataloged longing.

© Kendall A. Bell

Kendall A. Bell’s poetry has been most recently published in Anti-Heroin Chic and Thick With Conviction. He was nominated for Sundress Publications’ Best of the Net collection in 2007, 2009, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2015 and 2018. His first full length collection, “The Roads Don’t Love You”, was published in August 2018, and he has released 24 chapbooks. He is the founder and co-editor of the online journal Chantarelle’s Notebook and publisher/editor of Maverick Duck Press. His chapbooks are available through Maverick Duck Press. He lives in Southern New Jersey.