by Richard Trotter
i forge you again,
you wear the cloudy dress of regret
which I sew with dreams and swept up ash,
so I can be your mast
to sail this sea of floating oil,
coasting at speed across the debris,
with my hands in your hair:
a candy floss machine,
taking a net to gravity.
yet my hands are burnt
and can't feel your skin
as a bowl of rain fills,
substance and content defiled
Author's Note: reposted , because my friend Stephanie asked for it x
Posted on 01/05/2004
Copyright © 2020 Richard Trotter
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Stephanie Kent on 01/07/04 at 04:55 AM|
"you wear the cloudy dress of regret
which I sew with dreams and swept up ash". . .Thank you for reposting this, I love it. So full of raw emotion and haunting images.
|Posted by Ashok Sharda on 01/07/04 at 05:02 PM|
The associations will not die. Shall bring back all those impressions lived and relived time and again. I can see the emotions but the good aspect is that they are produced with intellectual centre intact.
|Posted by Leandra K Brossard on 01/13/04 at 05:12 AM|
I love finding such a fabulous poem behind such an innocuous title.. Thank you..