The Professor Is Still Talking

“Consider the difference
between the words naked and nude,
or rock and stone,” the professor says.
“Or, for that matter, hug and embrace.”

Pens and pencils move,
but not all of them writing.
Minds are moving, too,
not all of them considering.

My mind moves to you, naked and nude,
and then I remember the rock
         (Or was it a stone?)
that cleaved my head when I was 10.

The solid crack of pain,
the blood in my eyes…

A boy whose name I forget
threw that rock like a deadly Frisbee
and his teasing stopped once he saw my blood.

All his stuttered apologies
lost within my mother’s stony embrace.

My mind moves to you. I think of your hug,
as I think of you nude, not naked.
An ache, not a pain.

I embrace you after I hug you,
after I am made naked before you.

“Embarrassed or ashamed?”

The professor is still talking.

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About the author
Michael Griffith began writing poetry in 2016 while recovering from a disability-causing injury. Since then, he’s been published in dozens of online and print venues. Three books of poetry in print: New Paths to Eden, Bloodline, and Exposed. Mike teaches at Mercer County and Raritan Valley Community Colleges.