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we sat there, across many lives
woken by rhythms i'd hoped to forget,
trampled by dogma, misery risen.

and the way it was, we think�"
like no other magnetism, will remember
a glance like dazzled whispers.

you keep the pulse under your
left finger; i check the width
of your passionate adventure.

so we nourish the inner spiral,
crying for the step of feeling
as it wanders inside, pouring.

i sip on curiosity, wondering at it all,
contemplating coincidence and irony,
reimagining a strange, foreign familiarity.

on uneasy days, there is a dead
spine in my neck, having a joke
at the formality i've made of this life.

Author's Note

What do you think of the rhythm?

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

once we stop thinking and feeling outside the box...we become dead in our souls...once curiosity is gone and we are just living the formalities the routines...we lose that which can really keep us going...keep us alive in spirit.
again...such a good write...wonderful metaphor and analogies...
j.

[Caroline]

Thank you so much. I do appreciate your kind words.

[Kay Salisu Titilola]

If talking about the rhythm alone would bring you accolades, you would have gotten more than enough. The rhyme, the construction and the orderliness of this piece worth to be celebrated.

I really enjoyed it.

Nicely penned.

[Caroline]

Thank you so much, Kay. I really appreciate the detailed feedback and am glad that you enjoyed my piece.

[Just Kim]

I enjoyed the flow of this write, this is really good

[Caroline]

Thank you very much for your thoughtful review.