Molded

He sculpted curves
from pebbled sand
emotion pouring into
yearning crevices,

leaving stone persona
craving the warmth
of human touch;

There was no crafting
femininity's masterpiece
without autonomy,

as his hands had scarred
her individual perfection
with their constant molding...

Author notes

Credit Artist: Everything you touch by larafairie

http://larafairie.deviantart.com/art/Everything-you-touch-62413777

A contest entry

Pic Prompt (PIF) .... It's me again! Semi-quickie by kiwigirljacks. 800 points, ended May 15, 2008, 8 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest

Please tell me what you think

Comments

By me, right now

Adding your comment:
imahealer
May 15, 2008

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Congratulations on the gold. This poem was so deep and your metaphors were beautiful. How sad it seems when our partners try to change us into what they want, not who we are. Beautifully penned!

Shana
ten thousand cicadas
May 15, 2008

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Sad story of the artist who is more in love with himself and his needs than his sculpture, or the object of his affection. Stroking his own ego and desires, moreso even than that which is is molding, rather than letting the piece, otherwise affected by a less demanding touch, speak as to its own beauty. What an amazing metaphor for a selfish, limiting relationship. I am so impressed with this one. Beautifully done!
jcat
May 15, 2008

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WOW!!! This was just incredible and so very worthy of the GOLD!!!! Excellent job and congrats all the way!!
kiwigirljacks
May 14, 2008

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I read this three times to really absorb all it's meaning... fantastic!! How another can mould us into what they want us to be and how that surely does scar a soul of their individuality and authenticity... Wonderful write!
Thank you