narcissa and the needles

and we twisted through the night

your pale lace quiver

out here no one noticed you were thin

that your forearms were an atlas

a topography of bruises from the pricking

as I lay, you whirled above me

and I swear i could see the stars right through your skin

🌷 (7)

◄ the cannibals lament

trichophilia ►


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Alexandra Rockwell Lorenz

Mon 25th Jun 2018 05:27

It made me feel sad for the girl and for the person looking through her, but there is beauty in the melancholy.

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suki spangles

Mon 25th Jun 2018 04:12

Beautiful last line Stu. Another small and perfect poem..

Thanks for sharing.


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Mon 25th Jun 2018 01:22

After reading this, I woke up with the word, "fenestration". Such is the power of words...

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Tue 19th Jun 2018 22:05

Beautiful vignette, all exquisite torture Stu. I have reading Dylan Thomas's poetry; some of it pure lavish self indulgence, almost beyond imagining - others of them punchy and uncompromising and understandable. Might I suggest there is a comparison without offending you? I love it whatever the spring that gives it life.


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Stu Buck

Tue 19th Jun 2018 12:13

thanks all. no real reference cynthia just something i dreamt up.

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Darren J Beaney

Tue 19th Jun 2018 07:21


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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 18th Jun 2018 17:41

I honestly have no idea what this is really about because I don't know the reference; but the words are wholly glamorous and the final line breath-taking.

Your ideas and their expression are a great treasure to us all. Are they sometimes a burden to you, I have wondered?

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keith jeffries

Mon 18th Jun 2018 17:04

This poem is rich in imaginative language which makes an impression on the reader and impinges on the mind in a surrealistic way.
Thank you and well done

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