She is the quiet feather-
a Tattoo worn inside-out,
only seen as surface fades
and invisible touches
fail to find her a pulse.
She drips black, as memory
tickles her numb tribal hands.
In a list
A contest entry
- Invite Only ------> by Naridill.
450 points, ended January 19, 5 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think (Critical Honesty Appreciated)
Comments
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Beautifully carved, nothing makes me happier then when I read something personal from you - it's always a touch of reality - with personality but also things that are distant from everyone.
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Identify.. with many that is.
I like this. -
A piece of the abstract, woven with such potent brevity. Deeply intriguing, reflecting mirrors of possibility from the image itself. Best wishes to you in the contest!
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shh... no one's fading. she belongs to me!
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