Jesus' poem got buried in the comments, but I dug it out.
Lightly, under sprinting clouds
We find each other translucent.
Heavily: blades and blades crush and stab
Underneath us. We find ourselves
Hiding in our angles, in the shadows
Of our pleasure. The collar chokes,
Pinches, ebbs, flows, tighter, tighter-
Wooden smells, pine and oak, cherry.
Heavily, under melting clouds
I find myself obsidian.
Lightly: verdant stains burn impressions
On my skin. Pulsing muscle, steady drops
Race the rabbit to its hole.
4 comments:
Charmi, this poem is beautiful. I think your too hard on yourself. I'm looking forward to reading more!
Ah, see, but this is Jesus, not me! But that's okay. He should be in poetry. Do you know him?
It occurred to me that you might be mistaking Jesus Moyas for Jesus Christ, which I think would make both of those parties smile.
I'm laughing my ass off!
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