Funny how things converge
sometimes;
mystical unions,
curious connections.
The red flowers you brought,
the books I read
(the red parts & bluets*),
your eyes as they catch mine
in the act of blushing;
red cheeks,
my powerful passion for you
spilling onto
soft sheets
convulsed & creased.
Hearts beat,
old wine
beading
on glass,
your scars,
my lips parted;
placed delicately onto you.
The heat,
the blood
firing,
rushing;
nowhere to go,
only desperate to feel
alive.
Your smile,
my dress;
all red.
My soul,
your soul;
entwined in a world we
will never know
*both novels by Maggie Nelson
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Author:
rebmasters (
Offline) - Published: October 5th, 2021 03:16
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 37
- Users favorite of this poem: A Boy With Roses
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Comments2
Lovely writing , with a sadness ... you have a good way with words ..
Thank you. There is a trace of sadness... if only things could be different & all that
Yes , if only . Maybe they will be one day ?)
'“I know what I want is impossible. If I can make my language flat enough, exact enough, if I can rinse each sentence clean enough, like washing a stone over and over again in river water, if I can find the right perch or crevice from which to record everything, if I can give myself enough white space, maybe I could do it. I could tell you this story while walking out of this story. I could—it all could—just disappear.”
― Maggie Nelson, The Red Parts
(just couldn't resist adding this timeless quote here, sorry if you feel it detracts rather adds to your words, my friend
I meant no disrespect)
a great dedication, showcasing a wonderful flow and symmetry, while brushing on a lot of diverse themes/shades of passion,
thanks for sharing, dear Poet
'mystical unions,
curious connections.
The red flowers you brought,
the books I read'
'red cheeks,
my powerful passion for you
spilling onto
soft sheets
convulsed & creased.
Hearts beat,'
I love Maggie Nelson - she's my favourite writer. I think about this quote (also from the red parts) whenever I try to write poetry:
'I want to remember, or to learn, how to live as if it matters, as if they all matter, even if they don't'
your utilisation of that quote is beautiful,
and subtly profound
indeed, even if only on canvas
if we could make every write, matter
remember, that every word
is an avenue for making connections
and interpret every ending, as a platform
for discovering a new beginning, then truly
we could claim to have learnt
'how to *write*, as if it matters'...
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