Fingerprints lingered upon the sands of yesterday;
cradling the infant, a harbored moon and languid trench,
insecurity skimmed her mind like a water serpent.
Ragged nails, bit to the quick;
an inch long, scraped at her face.
“I don’t hate her, I just hate pretty.”
And while scratching she found the cure for faith.
Onychomancy squishing in between her toes,
holding injection sites for healthier days, for a higher
drug rate.
**
With water on the chessboard,
came a knight to kill the queen;
and there’s nothing she can say,
though she said to me
in secrecy:
"We’re all messed up now ‘n days, girl.
It's just in the way you handle your mistakes."
In a list
A contest entry
- Let Your Imagination Run Free #16 (Picture Contest) by Aussie Gypsy.
450 points, ended August 21, 2007, 16 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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This is just simply another stunning poem from you and I am not at all surprised to see it garnered the gold. Good for you and good for nothinghere, too.
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first off congradulations on the gold
this poem is great and well worth that trophy
Riftkin -
Awesome take on the picture. Great writing. Very original. Congratulations on winning the Gold!
Jeannie -
Wow, I am sitting here in awe of this piece, I have sad here for quite a while reading this piece over and over, welcome to the finalists
Thank you for taking the time to enter this contest, I wish you the best of luck
Karen -
incredible take on the picture
I love the places this piece took me... wonderful use of vocabulary throughout...
this piece is amazing... I have read it and re-read it and EACH time it gives me goose bumps...
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