A Solid Love? There's No Such Thing.
by Aaron Blair
Love has never been solid.
Instead, permeable, everything
filtering through it, becoming dirty, jaded.
The journey to being obscene.
Once, I saw a picture of you,
and I thought it was me,
my reflection in the pool,
and your fingers with magnets,
my heart with wires, metal strings.
We have no right to be perfect,
to be a complement to one another.
Instead, we should chafe, we should
pull at our ropes until they choke us.
Breath imprisoned in lungs exploding;
a fitting way to end a mess.
Author's Note: A door not completely closed.
Posted on 07/12/2005
Copyright © 2023 Aaron Blair
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Ashok Sharda on 07/13/05 at 01:41 AM|
The crux of the problem is that we are pulled by personalities rather than essence. Later, we start taking the other for granted and we peep into others essence. Its from here that every thing starts metamorphosing. Love has to be a growing thing which can only grow with the growing in understanding of the self and through this self of the other.
|Posted by Felicia Aguilar on 07/13/05 at 06:37 AM|
I like this poem so much. There is a brutal truth captured in it, a lesson that love isn't always wonderful and it isn't always pretty. It can be quite ugly at times and maybe that's how it should be, because that is the reality of it. Really wonderful poem. It's going in my favorites!
|Posted by Tom Goss on 07/15/05 at 04:12 PM|
I like "and your fingers with magnets,
my heart with wires, metal strings." Thanks.
|Posted by Melanie J Yarbrough on 07/18/05 at 05:44 AM|
girl, you're good.