by Wendy Geal
Lying is an art,
a craft for you.
You said I was beautiful and i sunk, drowned,
diseased myself famining off of you,
what a disaster.
Separation, a gasp of air between blows
though i started up again like an engine at your return.
I have nothing, our broken apparatus.
If it meant ridding myself of your restless touch
i would rip off this skin like a bad dress.
Posted on 11/22/2004
Copyright © 2020 Wendy Geal
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Kyle Anne Kish on 11/22/04 at 04:58 PM|
"Lying is an art,
a craft for you." I looove the way you start out with those two lines. Great lead in for a poem that is quick, sharp, descriptive, emotional and to the point.
|Posted by Tom Goss on 12/14/04 at 05:57 PM|
My head was nodding to this poem. A couple brilliant similes here too!
|Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 11/12/07 at 05:34 AM|
whew... strongly said with strong palpable imagery.