It begins in malleable form,
hands discovering
the body of earthy composition,
seeking out contours,
composing symmetrical symphonies
forging fibres to frame.
But the feel of you
is so soft within my hands,
that I work with such pleasure
shaping your matrix
without seeing the mannequin
I'm creating.
The strings begin to break
as I furiously knead
your soul to mine
and the more water I add
the more you disintegrate
and the puddle
is just a silhouette
of my perfect dream.
I never allowed the creation
to be shared,
too focussed on my own greed
to allow you the freedom
to unearth the pieces of me
and unmask the key
to destiny.
Author notes
Prompt - puzzle pieces from the clay
A contest entry
- puzzle pieces from the clay by unraveled.
700 points, ended October 18, 2008, 7 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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That's an interesting twist at the end, I enjoyed that idea of sharing the creation and this line: "allow you the freedom to unearth the pieces of me". Because really, you can try all you want, but without mutual trust love cannot develop as completely as possible.
I also like this line: "the puddle is just a silhouette of my perfect dream"
While this didn't completely blow me away, I thought it was a well written piece of poetry, nicely done
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