This reflection feels like someone finally daring to name that tiny, almost invisible shift that happens long before anything is said out loud. It captures the way a pause suddenly feels heavier, how a delayed reply lands with a quiet sting you can’t justify but can’t ignore. What makes it profoundly human is the tenderness toward our instinct to downplay it, to call it tiredness or timing instead of admitting something inside us tightened. The writing understands how the body whispers truths the mind isn’t ready to hold. It evokes the ache of realising you’re standing just a breath farther away without knowing when that breath widened. The piece honours the courage it takes to feel these micro‑distances without accusing, without panicking, without pretending you don’t notice. It recognises the small rituals we use to soothe ourselves waiting, hoping, rehearsing patience as if it were certainty. Beneath every line is the truth that intimacy shifts in murmurs, not in declarations. And the reflection gently reminds us that the body often speaks the story long before our words dare to follow.
Wow, this poem is so full. You get a sense of the dislocation and how it reverberates back to childhood. This is so hard to do in a poem that is imagistic, suggestive, not filling in the blanks as prose would, but certainly filling in the feeling. I've learned from it.
My favorite of the batch is 'Cupid.' So much said and implied with so few words.
Wow! Adding poetic talent to your acting resume both surprises and delights, David. An enjoyable, insightful poem worthy of reading.
The way the last line repeats yet modifies the previous line makes the whole thing cohere.
THE David Duchovny?
Haha yes
I knew that he’s written a couple of novels, but I didn’t think he did poetry.
This reflection feels like someone finally daring to name that tiny, almost invisible shift that happens long before anything is said out loud. It captures the way a pause suddenly feels heavier, how a delayed reply lands with a quiet sting you can’t justify but can’t ignore. What makes it profoundly human is the tenderness toward our instinct to downplay it, to call it tiredness or timing instead of admitting something inside us tightened. The writing understands how the body whispers truths the mind isn’t ready to hold. It evokes the ache of realising you’re standing just a breath farther away without knowing when that breath widened. The piece honours the courage it takes to feel these micro‑distances without accusing, without panicking, without pretending you don’t notice. It recognises the small rituals we use to soothe ourselves waiting, hoping, rehearsing patience as if it were certainty. Beneath every line is the truth that intimacy shifts in murmurs, not in declarations. And the reflection gently reminds us that the body often speaks the story long before our words dare to follow.
Wow, this poem is so full. You get a sense of the dislocation and how it reverberates back to childhood. This is so hard to do in a poem that is imagistic, suggestive, not filling in the blanks as prose would, but certainly filling in the feeling. I've learned from it.