Monday, December 3, 2012

In my dream...

I wish that in my dream you were standing next to me, shoulder to shoulder, wrists crossed, our fingers interlocked. Against the sea breeze, noisome and cold, the heat of our palms pressed so and sweating spreads like fever through our blood and bones and hearts, inflamed, radiant, incendiary. I wish that you were next to me, in my dream or otherwise, casting warmth in a glance or a smile while the roar of the sea drowns sounds born of human breath. In my dream I would see you push aside a briny lock from a flashing, fiery eye and I would breathe your brimstone breath exhaled burning from your furnace heart. I would taste your salty lips in searing kiss as breakers boiled and steamed around us, tugging at our feet and pulling us free to tumble among the deeps, luminous in the cold darkness.

1 comment:

  1. This poem is kind of an experiment. The verse itself is raw and, at best, passable. I, bored with my typical style, took out the line breaks in an attempt to see what effect these breaks and my poetic structure has on the rythym and meter, on the sound and feel of the words. I am not in love with the result although the process has given me some ideas for future works and perhaps for a re-tool of this piece at some date.

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