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Open Poetry #48

if hands could talk

Tomer
Senior Member

since 2002-06-28

Posts 1168
Michigan

0 posted 2012-10-21 11:35 AM

She used her veneers as tears under the small light
to turn her eyes around to the small touch
of his right hand as it fell onto his small naval
like the pieces of the saints
that use to stick from the arches of the cathedral

No poignant word
structure of prose
could fall for the sad little girl
that became a woman overnight
with blossom red toes
like a shadows fallen stroke under the buildings cast shadow
from the sunrise each early evening

He had hands that could touch her
with a grip of iron
but her body was built of ivory
soft, transparent
cautious with her thumbs moving into her pockets
as her eyes shifted towards an empty bedroom
a place that felt her need to sleep
away from the knitted blanket
that covered her body over the suede sofa
of solemn grace, tilts raise
a winter gone,
a sleep that wept until December brave.

r v wooo
Senior Member

since 2007-08-07

Posts 656

1 posted 2012-10-21 01:25 PM

The poem has my interest...I'm reading and rereading...It is like a puzzle to me...It is time to ready myself for work but I will return later to see if I can solve the puzzle.

Tomer
Senior Member

since 2002-06-28

Posts 1168
Michigan

2 posted 2012-12-15 06:43 PM

RV-

Happy you took a liking to it. I appreciate the intrigue. Take care

Cheers

Tomer

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