Tender Bruises (12th November 2008, 7.10am)
It was here, yes,
here in the dark
that you moved in me;
I could not see you, then,
but I felt you.
My legs graze sheets, seeking
remembered movements,
sweet-found release, your
horny hoofprints
tracking up my spine,
lining my thighs
with tender bruises.
My imagination burns;
I call your name, for
I have a use for you,
if you’re not busy;
stealing your echoes,
I move them with me.
Pause.
Recreation is not so easy.
Tiny God, did you find it hard,
as hard as I found you,
moving in me?
Under the dark, silent
sheets, my body rises,
heart speeds its beats;
I seek solace in the
reminiscence,
but I feel empty,
so empty
without your presence.
Comments
Silver Spun Sand | November 12, 2008 - 09:50
This is so beautiful, Jennifer. Wonderfully enigmatic. All the lines are little gems, but I loved these, for their originality especially:-
" ... sweet-found release, your
horny hoofprints
tracking up my spine ..."
Another excellent poem, much savoured.
Tina
Bradene | November 12, 2008 - 12:05
Tina says it all, this is really a beautiful piece. I wish I could write something half as perfect as this. So many great lines, it's difficult to say which moved me the most. The whole poem completely. Lovely Val x
MistakenMagic | November 12, 2008 - 15:40
'My legs graze sheets, seeking
remembered movements,
sweet-found release, your
horny hoofprints
tracking up my spine,
lining my thighs
with tender bruises.'
- This stanza was beautiful! Another brilliant poem Jennifer :)
Magic xxx
bosch | November 13, 2008 - 01:15
jennifer: You have talked me through an experience, I'm sure you think sensitively, but you haven't offered me anything to interact with, so that I could feel any of what you felt. This is a tour, not a poem. Create so that the reader may engage the writing and you. Show, with specific imagery, concrete details, so that your writing can be more than a prettified reminiscense. From the start you are one layer removed from the reader.