we saw the bubbles and they were us --
we couldn't touch each other for fear
of crushing one another and
we couldn't hardly ever know each other.
and we were everything we saw.
***
and you took the role of the man,
and i, that of the woman --
and i remembered what it was like
to live in the thin arms of halflovers,
how time and i went by like ghosts as i pushed
myself in, tried to feel the locking snap
of transforming into a new species, living
without my spine and fingers, being another
man's waist pockets so he can keep me
where he needs me most.
skin and hair turning white in the dark light,
in the cool arms of his underground bedroom.
palely would i follow in a white dress with
my own mouth sewn up on his and
my eyes so open, vividly processing
my path, memory shot, and good because
i will never be back.
Reading the opening lines, I remembered sitting alone, watching the water fill and then spill over the mug.
ReplyDeleteI saw the bubbles forming and then dancing around the water jet for a while, but never uniting, only surfacing to explode.
The rest of the poem was another piece I guess... liked it nevertheless. Did you ever think of composing all of your poems into a book and publish it?
i'm glad you liked this / made a connection to it. and yes! i have been compiling work this summer and am hoping to self-publish a collection in the near future!
ReplyDelete