Earmarks Poem by Ted Sheridan

As she stands behind me reading over my shoulder
the words I’ve written about her, she smiles as if she knew
beforehand the sentiments they’d contain. Because I am,
whenever I am in her presence, that easy to predict.
She knows my sensitivity to the touch of her fingers
especially when it is to either of my ears. She can hear
my heart beat and my breathing increase so there is no need
for me to speak of what feelings I conceal; she knows me
all too well…
Making tiny circles with the nails of her index fingers in the hair
behind each of my ears, she teases and inspires another poem from me;
one which she has probably already written…

2008 © T S