Direction

Like a bloodstream cell that only knows

its way to the heart, or the waves flowing

oceanward, beachward for a million, million

years. Like fingernails that don’t know how

to stop and would keep on growing if it

weren’t for scratches or chores. Like doors

that know only open and close, I started

to follow the same old ache that leads

me loveward, takes me always straight

to you. My nose pulling me to your touch,

your scent, your taste, but then I remember

the empty I saw last night in your eyes,

and I turn back home for once.

 

Francine Witte is the author of four poetry chapbook, one full-length collection, and the forthcoming, Theory of Flesh from Kelsay Books. Her flash fiction has appeared in numerous journals, anthologized in the most recent New Micro (W.W. Norton) and her novella-in-flash, The Way of the Wind is forthcoming from Ad Hoc Fiction, as well as a full-length collection of flash fiction, Dressed All Wrong for This which is forthcoming from Blue Light Press. She live in New York City, USA.