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Nothing has ever scarred my wrist but the subterfuge of letters. Inked phrases, ebony claimed ivory, small and for-my-eyes-only powerful. I steal poesy delicate out of the air, pulled deftly from fabrics of lyrical tapestry. Un-belonged and un-possessed, owned by none. Regardless, I imagine they are yours, kissed gently onto my skin. Or possibly ravaged, as I am by divergent thought. I have doubts of overwhelming nature, I am irrational and fragile at the mercy of deception. But of such aforementioned words: I can, to say the least, give you that much. |
I thought this was very cleverly written. I steal poesy delicate out of the air, pulled deftly from fabrics of lyrical tapestry. That was my favorite line of the entire poem. And I like the beauty you put into your lines. It's wonderful to see someone so enchanted by words. They are beautiful as long as one understands them and knows how to use them. But they will always have the beauty of a reverse-blade edge. | Posted on 2007-11-26 00:00:00 | by Jakirina | [ Reply to This ] | The last 2 lines give a repetition that was beneficial to this poem. | It was very cool. Too bad about your boss. ~Karrie | Posted on 2007-11-26 00:00:00 | by dismal_s child | [ Reply to This ] | |