I remember the first time you traced the globe on my back -
igniting each city with your fingernail groan,
paving each road with your fingerprint oil.
I swore to myself that I would never forget:
the eyelash lick,
the palm-hold bite.
And I coveted the sound of your laugh,
as you explored the New World
and marked the X's of success.
But then the lights turned on,
and night rushed out
when day flooded in,
and nothing was left
but the sandy debris,
and the blue-salt-drift
of your touch.
Author notes
Prompt #4 -- globe lamp.
Perhaps will change a thousand times over.
A contest entry
- . mental hopscotch . by girl shaman.
2090 points, ended May 26, 2008, 19 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
you dont need to change it; the first line put me in a trance and i totally know why i put this on the finalists <3 thank you so much for entering i so appreicate it !!
-
??
-
-
I'm reserving my place... hence the "wip" for "work in progress." Sorry if that was incredibly confusing!
-
Adding your comment:
