red light green light. -------------------------------------------
Sometimes I wish you’d stop and drop everything and read what I write at you and put aside your in-depth analysis and acupuncture and chakra charts and let my fingers roam from your solar plexus to your heart but you’re afraid that if you slow down you’ll choke, you’ll choke on your future with no chance of repair by stitch or by suture and then we’ll be packed in ice so cold it sends chills down the chills down our backs, till some moments are big hammers creating large cracks and it’s such a seismic solitude that I can feel it from my septum to my sternum and still, I’m not really sure why and after we defrost and get drunk on antifreeze we can let our fevers rise by a couple of degrees until you’re lying in bed doing Reiki on yourself but you can’t muster enough energy for it to be of any help and you’re hoping that this fast will end cause it’s followed by the feast but you’re still too sick, you’re still too sick to eat…but you ask for chips of ice like you’re still under the hammers that create the large cracks when we’re entombed in the moment till it’s fractured by a pickaxe and your fever spikes and your eyes are bright, so bright that no one else can see but even now your body should be used to teach anatomy--our bodies should be aligned with perfect symmetry--and sometimes I wish you’d stop and drop everything and read what I write at you and put aside your analysis and chakra charts and let my fingers roam from your solar plexus to your heart.
Wow...this is excellent! I've got to write something like this.
Sometimes the best things come out of run-on rambling. Whenever someone does this they just get more and more creative until they finally explode into the sun's fragments of joy running down like tears in the window rain storm crashing upon the surf while fish run for cover under the great sea of green where John and Paul fall through holes forever until they meet an apple that has fallen through the ages of earth that continuously shoots upwards only to be brought down again...
Hee hee. That's fun. I love doing that. Thanks for inspiring me, Mel.
This poem seems to be so heartfelt and emotive. This is shown by the repetition of "let my fingers roam from your solar plexus to your heart".
This is beautiful, and I must add it to my favourites. Excellent job, Melora!
Like crazy thoughts zooming on caffeine and lack of sleep with wants and wishes and observation all rolled into one speedball of desire to just be read, to be seen, to be heard. Like hello, I am here, don't you see me? Like waving your hand in class really, really hard, cause you have the answer (maybe the only one you'll ever have) and the teacher scans right over you. That disapointment is bone crushing.
I love that this is like a run on sentence with substance, book-ended with the original thought.