Not Mine

It hurts to touch;

hands reaching,

leaving safety of the body,

knot's centre exposed.  

Longing's stone,

thrown sinking,

dark water's

silent surface,

a mouth opening,

hope breathing

in concentric rings,

awaiting word.  

But deep,

heart's threads

hang frayed,

hands cut away

what can't be seen,

hidden,

alone.  

Fragile fingers

never speak,

touching only

knotted stone.

Lost pain falls

through each 

pocket's hole,  

Not mine,  

she says

and runs away.