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Long-Distance Calls
by Trisha De GraciaThe dearest ache
of bone and flesh,
the sear of after-silence
I am thinking
knowing
you'll be shadows
smoke and mist
an ill formed thought
or twinge
or kiss
and I'll be circumsided
tropic downpour, smog
and fever
white as china
pale like jutting bone
cast in amongst the crowds
The sweat a skin I sit in
dust, a mask caked hard
and oddly proud.
Who is she?
The girl who'll run to cling to your embrace
and kiss the newness of your face
to place her newly foreign tongue
across your old, your able, one?
Who is she?
And where might you have gone? 11/28/2009 Author's Note: We won't be the same. Does it mean we won't be wonderful? Lessons in cakewalking and the thin stretchy film of optimism. I can't help it, really.
Posted on 11/29/2009
Copyright © 2024 Trisha De Gracia
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Joe Cramer on 11/29/09 at 06:49 PM .... wonderful..... |
| Posted by Coleman Demiurge on 11/30/09 at 09:00 AM Optimism is a receipt for pain, but hey, without hard times there wouldn't be any good times, right? That's what I tell myself anyway. Anyway, wonderful poem indeed. My favorite lines is definitely - "the sear of after-silence"... Way cool; I love it a lot. Great poem all a round: the occasional rhymes work very well and your skill with imagery always impresses... Fine piece of work; very nicely done. |
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