the bathtub is full and i can hear
this square stream of rushing water
in my ears or at the mahogany door. it’s been
closed for far too long, and i can’t see
my reflection
isn’t me, and i cannot feel your
chapped lips when you whisper in 
my ear, only translate this sea of loud voices
into a monotones of squiggles
you can understand
it all, because we memorized the very shape
of these brown-black ants only yesterday so that 
we might blow colored drops of wind
into each other, when we couldn’t stand up
hearts are 
they can’t be in these broken ribs 
this fragile chest
you pummeled 
my memories away. i forgot and
we were broken
fragments of glass
surround this mist that i am behind;
this fog, it comes off
on my fingers like dust when i reach out
and carve an arrow there, in a direction
that doesn’t quite have a name.
and this hole, it is
nothingness where i thought 
there would be me, whole and unbroken.
i fall to the ground, but i am still alive.
and i wonder

if this direction, it is still right


Annie said...

Astounding poem. The last stanza was beautifully written. Great read.

Enep said...

Nice words!

Single Winged Butterfly said...

I love it. And your new background. I just got my braces off. Woohoo. Anyways I loveee it. Especially the beginning.

Single Winged Butterfly said...

Is that you in the picture? ur profile picture?

Kirthi said...

I wish I could write like you, so unique and beautiful.
"we might blow colored drops of wind" that is totally new and amazing. Colored drops of wind. drops of wind. I mean, I can't believe how great you are at writing. It's very visual!

Erin said...

I love the technique you used in this - how the 'in between' lines can work as an ending to the previous stanza or a beginning to the next.

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in the wake of light, your words bring me more(please, do leave your fingerprints behind, so I may relish the image of our hands after you go.)