Nerves.
In my black blazer lies a quarter in the right pocket.
In the back of my mind lies a million thoughts.
The black velveteen slides past my fingers-
As I slowly reach to the front corner of the pocket.
Finger's out reached as if gravitating to the warm summer heat.
I fondle this quarter with the tips of my fingers.
Slowly moving it up the ridges of my fingers-
only to encase it with a tightly wrapped fist.
Suddenly, I let go, only to let the quarter fall to the bottom of my pocket;
And I press my thumb gently on the seem that marks it's confinement.
I turn it on it's side, and brush the rigid lines.
Soon the cold metal ceases to exist.
Over and Over, when a being speaks I do this.
Over and Over, when I debate I do this.
Time and Time again in an instant. in a day.
When I think. When I'm nervous. When I'm clinching my jaw.
When I'm biting my tongue. When I'm thinking of anyone.
When I'm me.