Read Poem: Tissue, by Joseph Marshall

In my hand I hold a tissue as I talk to you
I play with it even though it’s already seen its use
Its texture is dampened but uncompromised
From its introduction to the corner of my eyes
But now it rests between my fingers
And is delicately folded over and over

Talking still, I place it down and spread it over my lap
I tug the corners to ensure that it is properly flat
Then I fold it in half, making sure it’s creased neatly
Then again and again until its folded symmetrically
Now it’s layered as thick as a wedding cake
But compact as my hands wished it to be made

The more I speak, the more I’m shorter of breath
But now I’ve got the tissue rolled up like a cigarette
I twist it like a towel and spin it around
I turn it over, side to…