New Poem

January 1, 2011

For the Flailing Heart

your hairs have become sparks that chase the moon and boys
drag in their wake, flailing in their beds, thinking only of the softest parts of you.

It seems strange that I could have taught you how the world splits open
in a dozen imagined hands.

The lychee fruit is horror in soft and wet
and you have found something far more bitter to bite down on.
Jealousy: as if you were a house of needles,
a house sucking in on itself, crawling into its own attic.
All this for wanting to be held and kept warm
in two chests at once, but the one you dove for had bones
around another. Even Juliet knew the moon
is always changing.
How far it might seem from your flame.

There ought to be one word to express loneliness and uniqueness together.



One Response to “New Poem”

  1. Duende said

    Why have you chosen to write this poem as a direct address, rather than using “she” or “him” as you have done in the other poems posted here? It seems this cannot be a poem directed at all the flailing hearts in the world, for the details are too specific, so this poem must be for a more acute audience.
    I do like the shakespearean reference, Swear not by the moon, the fickle moon, the inconstant moon… I think I shall swear by the stars instead, because the stars remain in my sky even after they are long dead- a comforting notion for one who hates the thought that memories are ever-fading. If absence sets a forest fire in the soul, should we let it burn so new light can eventually come through, do you think?

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