Your spine is dorsal,
like cala lillies,
in the morning.
Shark-toothed, when you
bite my thighs,
when you break the skin.
I was wondering how to
walk through doors
without you?
If our room
would always be this
fish-bowl prison.
Our mouths only opening
bottles and lies.
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4 comments:
those cala lillies remind me of a certain barbara guest assignment some years ago, before we knew the depth of L's preening. i think this one is more successful in reclaiming the old "amber" sound, tho still has a lot of the new you. again, i think the tone, or the vector toward subject matter is about right--the sexualized object, the relationships in everything--but the words aren't quite there...tho still good. the phrases that ring truest to me are "when you break the skin" and "walk through doors / / without you?".
i dig the "fish-bowl prison" particularly that hyphen. (not to be confused, certainly, w/ a hymen).
laters
It's been kinda fun. I'm glad that they don't suck. 'Cause while interesting to write, and interesting to think about, I feel like they kinda suck. Much the same way I feel about my old poetry.
And to be honest, I'm not sure I'll ever be able to wholly reclaim the old amber in these poems, because I am, for all intents and purposes, the new.
Glad to have you back. I will have to plan a trip south soon.
I almost wrote a poem last week with lillies in it. Lillies of the valley. Maybe I should try again. I've been having bad luck with writing lately. Lillies. Huh.
I don't think you've been having bad luck at all.
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