Monday, May 19, 2008

Strake

Because you
came here dressed as a man,
in a shirt.

Because things keep slipping.
Shifting distinctions.
Hiding your desire for
alike.

Left adrift
you venture your throat
to a word that tightens
around the sounds you might
produce.

You surrender to your own story,
told. Mothlike
hands wide, slow
flapping,
in and
out.

An imprint held.
Curved like a bone.
Leading edge to foil.

To reveal where thoughts are
sinking.

A last glimpse,

until
it bores its way out.

2 comments:

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

Sometimes I long for the MySpace facility here, of simply leaving 2 kudos.

After reading a poem, letting it wash over me and sink in ... I don't always want to find things to say about it, but just let it sit within me a while.

This might be the greatest appreciation – but leaves you without feedback.

Oh well, 2 kudos for everything here since last I commented.

Amanda Joy said...

That's one of the best comments I've ever had.. Thank you so much Rosemary!

A.Joy