by Ava Blu
when i sleep, i dream of melodies sung by mermaids
with bright blue ringlets surrounding the smirks on their faces
i wonder about their hands:
do they use them to curl their hair like i do?
do they take their voices and sing towards the sky when no one is looking?
do they take a breath before they swallow their pride the way we do?
i can't find myself in their eyes
i can't hear their judgments
i want to ask them what it feels like to be forever stuck in one place,
but i think i already know it better than they do
shipwrecked between the lines their lips don't dare form,
but you can see it clicking in their minds
you can hear it as they clinch their teeth
the ocean is their house but neither of us has found our home.
Posted on 09/05/2020
Copyright © 2020 Ava Blu
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Richard Vince on 09/09/20 at 09:17 PM|
"shipwrecked between the lines their lips don't dare form" is a killer line; a feeling i remember all too well. great to see you posting new things. :)
|Posted by Rob Littler on 09/16/20 at 08:40 AM|
Accidental Occidental had an appointment, dental
Her Siren Song the whole day long, lockjawed
Was the hum of the Oscar Meyer
...and she said mermaid marmalade was what was made
|Posted by James L. Auerbach on 09/23/20 at 12:41 AM|
I'd be willing to wager fishwives couldn't compose truth along these lines. Man, was this so worth the read.