Nine years ago, my friend, a
little taller than me, with nice
thick, curly hair and I,
stood in front of the air cooler.
We were singing. Our some-
what hormone tinged chords,
distorted by the gust of air.
Half the word would shiver.
Our lips wobbly like rubber.
Woolf had been discovered,
shelved. You asked me what
I wanted. Money. Love. Thin-ness.
I replied. Years later, your glasses
come to memory. You liked to
stand with the wind hitting
your face, only with naked eyes.
I wish now, that I had taken cue.
From that author. Asked for
something unsharable. Like
a room. Or emptiness.
Very nice poem. I’m going to add it to my blog…
Thanks for the words.
http://8783896.blogspot.com/
peace,
hippiedad@gmail.com
Brilliant. I think I almost reduced myself to a puddle of tears reading this.
Brilliant. A room of course, but if not, at the very least, an unshared computer!
Singing in front of the cooler :D
Awesome!
Elucidative, lyrical, transporting
How do you think and express the way you do?
I am so in love with the way you are