The Gaze

 

 

Something so assuming – a frame

to bless or condemn,

 neither giving or consuming, the tiny moments of what you are –

they fall around me like summer petals –

to touch, I fear a smear –

 

of the plaits twilight fed through  -

her hair, her eyes – these moments are too soon -

 you die, a breath of first and last –

 hands move across the table,  words warm like liquor -

soft the heart falls and everything with it, so pure.

 

He reminds himself of music,

finds threadbare woes, strung on roads;

fever tracked blaze - sun, dust and moan.

He marries gently, the way she laughs -

soft the rush falls and everything with it, so pure.

 

These words disappear -

the tract of psychosis, my charms are –

nothing pure to exhibit, nothing only yours to kiss,

I fall apart from these things -

a thorn impaled through the night,

 always hungry for a gaze, but wretched for all eyes.

 

I’ll appease, do not bore,

gaze - turn and throw away -

I am lyrical to nothing,

and too much a sore to see.

 

◄ Pure

The Passenger ►

Comments

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Marianne Louise Daniels

Wed 23rd May 2012 13:27

to want to be close to something and not at the same time...hope this makes sense? Think I may do some revision... Thank you Laura for encouraging me to go back, even if you are not aware that you have done so!

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Marianne Louise Daniels

Wed 23rd May 2012 10:31

Thanks for reading...lacking confidence in my own writing at the moment and getting abit lost too so understand what you mean... guess I was trying to think of how quickly things take over, how carried away and how frightening this can be too... I don't know...hmmm...

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Laura Taylor

Wed 23rd May 2012 10:19

I really liked most of the first verse, and the last two. I got lost a bit int middle.

I love the concept of the gaze though - great subject to write about.

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