women for whom i should not be writing poems: vii
by Brynn Dizack
you are like a thing that
does not exist.
on the grayest day, where
the ocean meets the sky,,
is where you are.
i have seen pictures of you
that i am not supposed to see.
someone else's story of you:
the colors you were, and
the way your body was shaped in her eyes, in her
this should not surprise you.
you have made yourself a riddle, and i am
hungry for clues.
Posted on 01/30/2011
Copyright © 2022 Brynn Dizack
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Ava Blu on 01/30/11 at 03:39 PM|
I'd be honored to be one of these women.
|Posted by Paul Lastovica on 01/30/11 at 05:38 PM|
how a stranger, or one strangely familiar rests in many of my own thoughts - I do well not to write them out into poetry, but these words make me wish to do so; to explore the riddle, feed the fire of my hunger for a clue or three.
|Posted by Elizabeth Shaw on 04/18/12 at 03:26 AM|
i like this thinker ... thnx