Your halo
is not holy.
Broken shards
of bright mirror
are strung on
a live snaking loop
of incandescent wire
rippling hot
around and through
the centre of things
casting anarchic
impossible
flare shadows
across your face
obscured behind
the arcing light
that welds me
to you.
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2 comments:
A very potent image you have here. Shards of mirror strung on hot wire casting shadows with much vigor. Ahh, brilliant, I say. ^_^ I reiterate the compliment, especially after reading your past posts. "Reading Neruda" is such a perceptive piece. "An Hour Ago" is much like a landscape painting, but in skillfully chosen words. And "I am Not Your Lover" is evocative; indeed brimming with tenderness.
It has been my pleasure to dwell on your poetry. I hope to read more. ^_^ Be well.
Thank you, soulless; I've begun leafing through your site, and it's giving me much enjoyment and much to think about... I'll follow you with great interest and appreciation from here on. You be well, too.
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