by Bob Mundle

Created on: September 27, 2009   Last Updated: October 04, 2009

The Simian Crease.


( In Chiromancy, the Simian Crease is a fusion of the heart and head lines on the palm of the hand, and is believed to have special significance in that the intensity of feeling, both rational and emotional, of the individual, can be read from this line alone.)


(i) Intersection


Your hand, cupping mine, is warm and dry.
My blood is pounding.
Your finger, tracing an ellipse

On my captive palm
Moves as softly as baby's breath
As you murmur: This is where we start,
With the line of the heart, then here
Beneath the index is the head, the conjoiner,
And between the two fuse the thinker and the lover.

Your eyes, so young and yet so wise
Perfect brows arched over your tightening grip,
Grinning at me stunningly, knowingly
Take me by surprise.
I never felt love like this before
As heart to heart we hit the floor;
Together in unbounded ecstasy
Under the bluest of skies on the sweetest of seas
My breath drowning in yours, as yours is flooding me.

You were always the baby of the class
But you give the perfect lesson in pure maths;
You and me, symmetrically
Prove the equation one and one becomes we.
You knocked the stuffing clean out of me.
I never thought that this could be,
Hand, head, heart, such a blessed trinity.
But now I know, my whole life through
The joyfulness of being loved by you.


(ii) Bisection


Your hand, cupping mine, is warm and dry.
My blood is pounding.
Your finger, on my captive palm, stops moving.
Your eyes, so young and so very wise
Scrutinise me, giving me such a look that I blush.
You drop my hand and nurse your coffee cup.
Silence descends, a wall between us.
For, idiot that I am, I so mistook the road
And now there is no u-turning.

How I would love the ceiling and floor to flip
And swallow me; for the fragile ship that we inhabit
To sink to the ocean's ground;
For me to crawl out the of porthole, and drown in the deep
Without a sound.
This foolish vessel will never sail again.
It has foundered on a conceit, ill conceived,
That we two were one. My dearest friend;
Our camaraderie is gone and here everything ends.

You were the baby of the class
But your examination was too hard to pass.
Your gaze marked me down as I stood
Gabbling excuses for my foolish falsehood.
How could I have got the way so wrong?
Can we go back and start again?
No; it's too late. The sky has changed
And I can never say, after this moment is through,
How much, and how long, I have always loved you.

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