interchangeable, indescribable.
Incoherent.
And until we're in agreement
my mind can't keep up.
my mind can't keep up.
Inside the ribcage
nest upon nests are made,
and maybe I am in there too.
Compass to masses:
stranded out here,
in your beautiful arms- outstretched
across the miles
that descend loneliness.
in your beautiful arms- outstretched
across the miles
that descend loneliness.
That ascend her clots.
Picnic on the marrow,
she beats a thousand drums;
land, home, hereafter.
Tomorrow it will be plain,
and tonight in vain.
she beats a thousand drums;
land, home, hereafter.
Tomorrow it will be plain,
and tonight in vain.
Wow truly compelling piece, never knew inside the ribcage could be so full, until the picnic starts..haha
ReplyDeletethat ascend her clots is a visceral line, i like...which leads well into the last which is just as...picnicing on the marrow...wow...that whole last stanza is tight...
ReplyDeleteStriking and sharp, stiletto-like use of personification to skewer the emotions and turn them on the slow revolving spit of poetry--final lines are genius.
ReplyDeleteThis is poetry. I especially love the second stanza.
ReplyDeleteI like this depiction.
ReplyDeletewonderful poem...
ReplyDeletemetamorphosis
love your word play.
ReplyDeletewow.