the reality of Turtle Neck sweaters

the reality of Turtle Neck sweaters

 

 

fumbling buttons

undressing shadowed sentiment

among the stars shining 

through a rear-window dictation

 

as i write every inch of your breath

in cursive letters,

and send myself the affidavit

that you did exist,

once

that i had touched you, then, with fervor

 

and even though i still feel your momentum

in my arms,

my fingers question the dexterity

of my memory.

 

 

 

erin-cilberto

6/25/16

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

Mixing the wry with the winsome requires some awfully delicate balancing on the tightrope, and you have Wallenda'd this with aplomb.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

your encouraging words brought me quite the smile...

thank you, W.K.

j.

[Lyn Anderson]

ah, this is so sexy -- reminiscent of those first frenetic encounters (when we were all of legal age, of course) that stay so vivid in our minds, despite other people with whom we had much deeper and more lasting connections.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your words, KL...

certain ones just stay with us.

[Lyn Anderson]

yes -- yes they do. I am reminded of a certain boy, a hot summer, an attic room, and "Little Red Corvette" :)

[Marianne Rose]

Love the second stanza- captures a wistfulness and a feeling "was this real? I need evidence . . ." Reminds me of how I used to reread love letters just to prove to myself there was love there once. I like the combination of a young picture of love and a mature contemplation in the metaphor. Well done J.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

thank you for your kind review, Marianne.

j.

[Alfred Kukitz]

Wow! Metaphor extrodinary. Sometimes the buttons of self really know how to undress poetic verse. Great write Jacob!

Regards,
Al

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i like your response...it is a metaphor in itself that tells it all.

j.