Ship Wrecked by Sarah BrookesSilence shivers up to me
and, in my frostglass state, I can
see frail anemones in those peeling
lacquered eyes.
Comatose, rolling. From this
angle your jaw becomes
shattered shards of flotsam, that hip
a sandstone egg.
The foamcrest of
your breathing plashes
at my pebbled neck:
Poseidon.
Tumult breaking on my
tranquil shores, scattering seaweed
in my salt-clad hair as I wish
for the still of silted depths.
Yes, we are strangers in a swell of arms
beneath a rocking darkness. Yet
it is in this anonymity that I
have known you best.
11/29/2003 Author's Note: I can't sleep and my bed has been taken over by the Gods of Otherplace.
Posted on 11/29/2003 Copyright © 2024 Sarah Brookes
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by John Ilotan on 12/02/03 at 02:07 PM Beautiful imagery and flow, suggests a turbulent tranquillity. Beautiful. |
Posted by Dana E Brossard on 12/03/03 at 02:47 PM *smiles* Very nice, and very vivid. Thank you for sharing with us. |
Posted by Beth K Hannah on 12/03/03 at 11:27 PM wonderful imagery...the dreamscape it projects... |
Posted by Richard Paez on 12/04/03 at 12:55 AM I love the imagery in this, the steady but not surging sensuality. I love the twist at the end, the turn into anonymity after being submerged in such deep (chaotic?)intimacy. Almost shocking that one could find such rich waters in a stranger, so unexpected after knowing the depths reached. Beautiful writing Sarah. Thank you for sharing these nighttime shores with us {m} |
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 10/26/15 at 03:14 PM Wow! The vocabulary in this is just stunning and compelling. Congrats on a fine POTD! |
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