Denim jeans lit my knees on fire,
as summer towels tried to shade
my spine from burning- the July
equilivant of frostbite- a seasonal infection.
My dreams followed a tantric pattern,
because your apathy was quick to stun
my corroded irises with felicity and
oxygen deprivation, because you
were terrified I'd curse you with
the capacity to teach me how to breathe.
You had stoic ankles because I'd smile
like August for you, and you'd still
retain pellets of mid July like the past
five weeks had never happened- you
loved tantalizing my lungs with the promise
of figuring out the formula for converting
oxygen to life, almost as much as I loved
you when your breath pumped blood through
my veins.
My inflections seemed to rain landed comets
into your cheekbones, because you always
acted like scrolling up to see the hidden
messages in my ims was worthless because
I wasn't understandable. You always told me
my conjugations were all wrong and the
misplacements of commas in poolside speech
was like a nother language- one where loving
you with everything I have was confusing.
When I tried to deciphered us, we felt
like vocab words- trying to convey the
same things as simplistic syllables,
but inflections in weird places designed
to be fancier- we are polygots- speaking
the same base language but your excuse
was that you were unable to translate me.
Author notes
denim, towel, felicity, apathy, curse, tantric, pellet, stoic, tantalize, scroll, polyglot
A contest entry
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Comments
-
very nice work and what a great title!
-
nice work. some hard words to work with but you did a good job. great metaphors
keep it up
kmp -
ankles
-i adore the way you use this word throughout all your poems. it's just so quirky:}
figuring out the formula for converting
oxygen to life
-gorgeous, i love it
-
Neat, unusual
I truly enjoyed your poem. The only suggestion might be to use "because" in the fourth stanza only once, if a suitable substitute comes to mind. I could easily be wrong, it was my only stumbling place though. Smiles, Insc
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