I Wanted To Say That Your Hands Are Like Unfurling Leaves

by Kirsty Logan

But I didn't sleep well and my dreams were full of octopi

and mice eyes and dripping water and strings tightening on my wrists

and when I woke you were smiling like your mouth was full of chocolate buttons

and the late morning sun was haloing your hair golden but I knew my eyes were crusted.


I wanted to say that you looked sweeter than a slice of ginger cake

but you forgot to put sugar in my coffee and I forgot to take the recycling out

and neither of us wanted to wash the dog so we stared at our laptop screens and frowned

and pretended we were doing Very Important Things but only living things are important really.


I wanted to hold you tighter than a koala holds a eucalyptus branch

but you left the bathroom light on and didn't want to go out for lunch

and like a child I was hungry and grumpy and wanted you to look at me

and I told you we weren't working when really you're the only thing that doesn't need fixed.


I wanted to say that your hands are like unfurling leaves

so I waited until you fell asleep on the couch

and I lay on the floor next to you

and I pressed your palm to my lips.