...being born under the sign of "cancer", I've been told that I bruise too easily
He knows me well.
That I love the rain
and often fall asleep in an attempt to watch
the eleven o'clock news.
That I bruise too easily...
and curl up within a fetal position
to sleep my best.
That I wear his shirts
to be reminded of the way he feels,
the way he smells
...he knows me well
That morning isn't my strongest suit.
That I awake slowly
and shower before seven
and drink coffee with cream,
two sugars.
That I rarely complete a crossword puzzle
without twisting a strand of copper hair
around my finger
...simultaneously, around his heart
He knows me well.
That this marquise solitaire
is really all I need to wear. That his body molds so perfectly to mine,
as he whispers suggestively in my ear
of the insanity I drive him to
Love it. The twist at the end, gives the last sentance a colder mood than the other times it was repeated. The sense of understanding here, the closeness, the unrelenting need for him and the fear to leave a bruise, is that what drives him insane? That's my interpretation, anyway.
I love your poem, Kelly. Of course I truly appreciate your loving attentiveness to detail and presentationchoice of font, color, and visual presentation; however, I most appreciate, as always your elegant use of our language to evoke images and feelings. The notion of being easily bruised, to me, conjures thoughts of vulnerability, which allows us to be hurt, but also is the only way to truly sense and appreciate the beautiful subtleties and nuance in our livesexperiences that thick skin would never allow us to savor. You rock!
I like what you have, but the sudden jump makes it feel very incomplete. I think you should either add in some other little "flaws" into the beginning that allude strongly to the last line, or even extend the poem so that it goes on one more stanza to explain things more. But very good for a start. :)
Breathtaking. "marquise solitaire" such a telling step going into the conclusion of the poem; that something so hard and lasting as a diamond, being so integrally, soulfully connected to the same woman that is like a delicate rose petal . . . so desirable to look at, but subject to bruising if not handled lovingly. The last verse alone could stand on its own. Breathtaking bears repeating.