"Welcome home."
I listen to your coat rain down,
and the keys clink like wine glasses.
The doorway.
I pull myself in that direction, looking,
and there's a curled smile drawing itself onto your face.
Hugging bones.
A feathering sensation arrives when our fabrics meet,
and trickles down the parchment of my neck.
Deep breath.
Paper and glue walk on by noticeably,
and the slightest hint of coffee hides in the wrinkles.
Short chuckle.
Teeth chatter, knocking and scraping irregularly,
as a sour phase passes over my tongue.
"I'm home."

Hey Hibiscus -

There was something refreshingly smooth about this, and I think that was control. That may in part be due to the enjambment, or indeed the shorter lines that don't so much give the poem a clipped feel as a well-practiced one. What interested me here was how you got across the image by mostly nouns and verbs - little beating about the bush with flowery adjectives (or worse, adverbs) and such, but even so, we get straight to the matter in a kind of simplicity that cuts to the core. And the lovely thing is, while the poem retains a strong sense of focus, it is not so sharp-edged so as to lose the softness that accompanies a couple meeting each other after a day at work, or a trip. Even the figurative language creeps in quietly -'keys clink like wine glasses...parchment of my neck...hugging bones' - so as not to seem obstrusive, so as not to seem that the poet is at all intruding on the quietness of the moment and trying to fluff it up with, well, poeticism. So. A rather modern tone, wouldn't you say?

I think it is the shorter lines - 'The doorway.' 'Hugging bones.' 'Deep breath.' 'Short chuckle.' - that help you maintain that control, that focus. The longer lines give us exposition, the shorter ones snap our attention back to the instant. And the ending interests me - for a couple of reasons. First, because you say 'Deep breath.' This makes me curious as to what the relationship between them is - for I gather the couple are old ('parchment of my neck...bones meet...wrinkles'), and therefore would have this kind of easy familiarity between them. But taking a 'deep breath' before meeting sort of hints at a kind of tension, an uncertainty as to how the other will receive them. This fascinates me - are you suggesting that that feeling of inadequacy or uncertainty is retained even in later life, in longer relationships? And also, the ending, 'the sour phrase that passes over my tongue' - why sour? What's souring the reunion?

Please take my questions in an entirely informal manner - for I think that the ambiguity you create, the mystery is also, in some way, central to the progression of the poem - in fact, any further exposition would probably ruin it. So, I'm pleased to see you have raised some questions from the reader, while still creating an entirely private, intimate, secret sort of feel. Intellect and emotion. I like to see both there.

Some very minor issues:

Hugging bones.
A feathering sensation arrives when our bones meet

Bones - repeated. Nowhere else do you use repetition as a technique, so here it appears off. Pick another word. The poem is too short to allow for a repetition of this type, and this close. Also, do you mean to say 'feathering'? Or 'feathery'? Just curious.

Paper and glue walk on by noticeably

Seemed too bizarre a line for the way this poem is clearly rooted in reality. This was the only bit of figurative language that leapt out unecessarily, that flaunted itself gaudily, whereas the others all are subtle, serious. And I have no idea what you mean by it, either.

as a sour phase passes over my tongue.

'Phrase' is the word you want.

Anyway, a good read - thank you. PM me if you have nay questions, or would like to discuss an aspect of this!

Navita

Something surreal and out there about this poem, but I did in fact enjoy it.
Nice pace and not too long or too short.
One thing, though; I do not want to cramp your creativity because I know how hard it is to hear negative things about your poems, but some of the lines are a bit strange and just don't really make sence.
All in all a good poem.

I think that every poem has something unique about it and this, my dear friend, is unique. I liked the flow of it, even though some parts were choppy. This is one part;

Hibiscus wrote:"Welcome home."
I listen to your coat rain down,
and the keys clink like wine glasses,
The doorway.
(Try to break apart some lines in stanzas.)
I pull myself in that direction, looking,
and there's a curled smile drawing itself onto your face.
Hugging bones.

A feathering sensation arrives when our fabrics meet,
and trickles down the parchment of my neck,
Deep breath.

Paper and glue walk on by noticeably,
and the slightest hint of coffee hides in the wrinkles.
Short chuckle.

Teeth chatter, knocking and scraping irregularly,
as a sour phase passes over my tongue.
"I'm home."

As you can see I changed the periods at the end of the stanzas and put commas. Not much wrong was going on in this poem. I like it, keep writing!