My brown-skinned uptown sister,
sitting on the cusp of my night,
splotches on cold comfort
belong to you and angels who droop
over phrases and sweet man smell of leather
and touch of raw man hand.
It catches and holds
a strand of righteous indignation
and suffering like a string
pulled completely out of well-threaded,
high-count, expensive material
it carries a fatal flaw, a fragile fray,
of having brushed up against almost perfection
You are ‘roughed up’ by this almost absent-minded
brush with fate that had a gentle voice
and markings of white-skinned mentorship.
“But his lips were soft, seeking, and promising,”
you say, tracing tips of finger on that exact spot.
Downtown, he wages war with train tracks
and lays his heart on a rail to be run over
again and again by dark rushing things
that keep him away from you.
Lighting is different in these two worlds.
His were full of man-shadows. Yours radiate
into dark corners and you save what you find there.
Pigeons coop in tall stations where he wanders.
Swans skim a perfect mirror in the park out your window.
They can not mix, no matter how beautiful
the feel of leather and lace in opposite textures.
Come, crawl into comfort of one world
and stop becoming a train wreck in comparison.
In a list
A contest entry
- Drunk and Careless (Quickie) by sheltered.
450 points, ended February 13, 2007, 6 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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A little Jittery as far as flow goes but a remarkably in tune piece of work never the less.


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"Downtown, he wages war with train tracks
and lays his heart on a rail to be run over
again and again by dark rushing things
that keep him away from you."
Sighhh...What an incredibly profound, honest & wise penning, my Sister...Ohhhh, how this one aches across the page...Amazing imagery, vivid with Truth...Good luck in the contest, my dear Friend...
Wanda


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this is for nemisis siter......I am getting it out now before we meet and I have to seal our communciation for another few years...
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