Stop Touching Your Fate

July 7, 2020

Life lingers on the fingertips.
Work, home, love, all

that you binged,
all that you scrolled

seeps into whorls
at the edge

of your existence.
Eyes the windows

to the soul, lips the steps
into the heart, skin

the seal between the bones
of the world and you.

Wash your hands with kindness,
with compassion, with the fragrant,

bubbling soap of joy. Now,
touch your face.

 

________

Hilary King lives in Northern California. Her poems have appeared in Fourth River, Belletrist, Gyroscope Review, Blue Fifth Review, Sky Island Journal, Mom Egg Poetry Review, Vinyl Poetry, The Cortland Review and other publications. She is the author of the book of poems, The Maid’s Car.

Art by Samuel Rodriguez.

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