this slippered tongue lies
beneath thin cotton evidence
and the callous of a stare
that somewhere dream of me
where you love with all your hate
it keeps your fingers honest
confronted with the mouth
of these quickly melting jeans
and all the zippered things
that should have been whispered
madly pebble in the braille
of your slick-lipped circles
dying little damp deaths
of clothes-puddled conscience
burning in this heaven
for all of haloed hell
-
Author:
Heather T (
Offline) - Published: February 16th, 2018 07:38
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 50
Offline)
Comments3
A tapestry of the woven word - great work Heather
Thank you many muches for stopping by, friend.
Your use of metaphor slips between accepted word-meanings with such ease in this piece of stunning imagery Heather - -may your poetic tongue never be too closely slippered for work like this shines with the slant-eyed look at life for which you are so valued by poets like me. Thank you for sharing such an inventive piece of "somewhere dream" - - great read.
Incredible writing, Heather! If there were a poem Olympics, you would definitely be a medal contender!
After reading it a few times I decided to become a nudist. The cotton evidence, melting jeans, zippered things, and dead clothes puddles make me afraid to get dressed!
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