the sequined gown

 

there was a time when

my thighs stretched

over the neck of an elephant

and my knuckles bled

nightly.

my lover swallowed pointed words

as my mother

too short to reach my father’s

thoughts led me

through the dark

to taste the moon juggling

on a star.

we sat conjoined,

she and i,

and wrestled with the strong man

of never going to understand.

but please,

please,

don’t call this

“the end”.

we circle ‘round again.

Reviews

[Gandré]

I see a drama in this poem perfectly wrapped in the finest metaphors. Awesome writing. This poem contains a remarkable style and theme. What a great way to say this drama here: "my thighs stretched

over the neck of an elephant

and my knuckles bled

nightly." ----------- yes, this is how I understood your poem. Tell me if I am wrong.

[nonexistantnow]

oh it's awesome!
i love your casual rhymes and the flow
and the ideas are so.. visible.
like you can see the words, ideas, and pictures
all floating in front of you.
great job. -ty.