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Life, March 2020

Life lingers on the fingertips.
Work, home, love, all

that you binged,
all that you scrolled

seeps into whorls
at the edge

of your existence.
Eyes the windows

to the soul, lips the steps
into the heart, skin

the seal between the bones
of the world and you.

Wash your hands with kindness,
with compassion, with the fragrant,

bubbling soap of joy. Now,
touch your face.
 

Stop Touching Your Fate by Hilary King | Poetry Fabric Box

$25.00Price
Quantity
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    Originally from the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia, Hilary King is a poet now living in the San Francisco Bay Area of California.

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