Untitled Bubble

 

The sun streams my lifted arm,

dressing me with winter petals.

 

All here - commence,

safe minutes mine,

like a morning hare,

with pinching grins, kicking. I feel you in my chest -

suspended, unravelled,

unreal, unspoilt.

 

Everyday, you are,

 

and just enough. Enough, enough for me,

 

that you exist here when I am alone.

 

Who knows what anybody does to another?

 

The snow kisses my nose -

reassures, makes me feel delicate, almost pretty,

 

and I stand silly; here, there, everywhere,

alone

 

but not.

 

◄ I cannot write.

Neptune's Daughter ►

Comments

Profile image

Marianne Louise Daniels

Fri 21st Jan 2011 22:32

thankyou.

Profile image

kealan coady

Fri 21st Jan 2011 18:45

This is deadly. Theres a structured carelessness to it that I appreciate.

Profile image

Laura Taylor

Fri 21st Jan 2011 09:44

Some lovely lines in here, cracking opening.

who knows what anybody does to another? quite.

and 'but not' :) nice ending

Profile image

Andy N

Fri 21st Jan 2011 08:15

Particularly like 'The sun streams my lifted arm, dressing me with winter petals' but i think the full piece is lovely.. has a out of worldness feel to it which i can really relate to.. one of my favourite pieces of yours x

Profile image

Cynthia Buell Thomas

Thu 20th Jan 2011 19:41

This is lovely, Marianne. I do like: 'Every day, you are' using the verb 'to be' as 'existence', and also 'Who knows what anybody does to another?' - among many lines. I enjoy the metaphysical feel of the whole poem.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message