The uneven rhythm
of your footsteps
crushes
the teardrops
beading
on your forehead.
Your saponified spirit
dries in my hair
like a kiss
unforgotten.
The smell
of my bathwater
tastes
like your sweat,
which perfumed
my memories
each time the wind blew.
Every degree of precision
I saw as an attack,
but my eyes
wide shut
was just a premonition
that I'd want
to dream this all away.
Author notes
Written February 19th, 2005
What did you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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*bows*
this is gorgeous. i can't believe i kept wandering by you, touching a little here and there, but never staying. this just reached in and forced me to look honestly. incredible. -
Wow...absolutely brilliant. So breif yet so full of life and emotion and power...if this is how you write, I really wish that I could see your paintings. This poem is like a picture in itself...vivid diction, imagery, and metaphors are what make great poetry (as I've learned from studying it) and you have all of the above. Brilliant.
--Ivy -
I read your profile type of thing, and I couldn't believe you were the same age as me. Your talent is overwhelming along with your vocabulary. I loved your metaphors in this and your words are so gentle but with meaning. Another great poem. Very beautiful job.
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I love it. The lines, "The smell of my bathwater tastes like your sweat". It's a very emotive, and deep, poem. Wonderful imagery.
Ali xxx -
Hey David,
Thanks for the comment. Saponification is the process of making something into soap, so in this case, it's like a solidification of the person's spirit. Thanks for checking it out. -
that's really deep, i'm sure i would have enjoyed it more if i knew what saponified meant (i could still spell it if i wanted to tho)
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