I watch my cellphone flash
With a frantic call -- goes out -- back
Again. I have left the last letter, his
Last postcard in the dustbin of
Desire among sweepings and
Dead cats of memory. Till the next.
I wait patiently for the passing of
This fantastic invasion, when all I'd done was to
Spill by chance some ink on his chest that
Cannot be washed away.
I have chosen a snowy dress, I have
Brightened my teeth. The
Heart -- that is harder to groom
But the better part of it, my writing, is
White.
What an emotive emotive - i particulary love the image of the ink spilt on his chest...very powerful..
ReplyDeleteA snowy dress and white writing. This is particularly chilling
ReplyDeleteHappy Sunday
Much love...
the splashed ink weaves such images :)
ReplyDeletelove this play of ink and white....
ReplyDeleteSo much of love is waiting... and preparing... words of white, a wedding maybe...
ReplyDeleteBeautifully vivid and emotive write ❤
ReplyDeleteVery good read.
ReplyDeleteThis is a really intriguing poem, with some arresting word choices.....I love the originality of "the dustbin of desire among......dead cats of memory." Wow!
ReplyDelete