Falling In

His fingertips are

heavy stones of sunbeams

that he packs and piles into my spine

against the back of my thighs

 

 

In the faroff, stormscreams

muffled, though, like a dying dream

poked through with late morning light

stinging my eyelids

 

 

The lily skins are cracking

and the day swells with

the silence the trees scream

after the wind has fled

 

 

The rain is falling upwards

the sky greedy and parched

The shiver runs beside me, past me

like a riverbrook beside the shore

    past the shore

 

 

I say: my mouth is sweet and soft, my dear,

as soft and sweet as yours

Author's Note

Because I didn't study poetry as extensively in graduate school, I always feel weak when I write it but also lost as to how to edit, revise, or even critique it on my own. So any general comments or suggestions would be welcome.

Reviews

[J. Garcia]

"His fingertips are
heavy stones of sunbeams
that he packs and piles into my spine
against the back of my thighs"

"The rain is falling upwards
The sky greedy and parched"

^Beautiful and with mystery. This poem feels like there could be two things going on: A good or a bad. Kind of like the whole optimism/pessimism is the glass half empty or half full. However, this is my interpretation. (: Good write, dear.