fragmentaryczne ciała

Embrace

(by Billy Collins)

You know the parlor trick. 

Wrap your arms around your own body 

and from the back it looks like 

someone is embracing you, 

her hands grasping your shirt, 

her fingernails teasing your neck.

 

From the front it is another story. 

You never looked so alone, 

your crossed elbows and screwy grin. 

You could be waiting for a tailor 

to fit you with a straightjacket, 

one that would hold you really tight.