The tiny spider veins under your eyes
are as beautiful as a fly's wings, translucent like that,
and almost blue in reflected lights.
And i could crush you like that, too, shards
in my palm, beauty
disintegrating under sweaty fingers.
Your words are like icicles down the back
of my neck, like snow balls hitting me gently
in the eye,
you blind me in cold and i want
to make your breath warm again...
To feel the smell of raindrops on my cheek
where your kisses used to linger
like the fragrance of home.
Comments
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Very nicely done. I like the polar opposites that you have used in your poem. Delicacy at the mercy of brute force and the cold over icicles and snowballs against the warmth of home. Great job.
Mike
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the title is somewhat ironic since the poem itself is way more than "just something". This is a splendid write, full of poetic description that you always pull off so well. I love the way you make sharp turns from pretty and nice to outright violent and physical. It's like a roller coaster ride through heaven and hell.
I love this one quite so.
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