Tonight's Poet Corner: Stiff Hands and Sonnet Solstice #169
Stiff Hands by Belinda Roddie Somebody broke the clock next door, so it's always ten at night, but only when you're in that room with a lover or a friend. Time stops long enough for you to spill your secrets along with wine. It will let you cry a hundred times in the corner without the dawn infringing on your territory. It will wrap you in a frigid shawl as welcoming as a black hole, pull you into a dimension that sprinkles stardust on your bangs and turns you gray while you're still young. And when the somebody you dragged along into that void kisses you, it is like the forgotten sun in a tiny space, until you remember that it's bright aside, and you break free, and you find solace in the incessant ticking that was once so limiting before. Her Hands Were Cold by Belinda Roddie Her hands were cold and would not warm up by the hearth. No matter how many hot drinks I passed to her, her body never rose above its frigid temp'rature. I w...