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about 45 minutes of sleep the night before
tragicbubble

atomic bomb explosions
 1
burn the dust off
 2
this body as skin erupts
 3
in blue flame, color in and
 4
out of eyes and
 5
 
 
at the same time it’s
 6
like falling through December
 7
ice, a cold kind of rush
 8
where every nerve is so
 9
nervous to touch
 10
it shrieks aching as it falls
 11
consumed
 12
 
 
consuming bruised lips
 13
as they part secrets virgin to
 14
sound and air,
 15
to sit on your tongue,
 16
not much displacement there
 17
but a revelation still
 18
 
 
as your mouth folds slowly
 19
down, quieting shriek and ache and
 20
pressing pressure till,
 21
pressed, I sit distracted, monday in math,
 22
reliving every second of
 23
that slight impact.
 24

21 Mar 05


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Comments:

the first two lines don't pull me into this poem: it was stanza two (actually, line 4) that just really got me ripping ... from there on, it's a filament-crunching delight ... a few lines i'd end just little stronger ... but 4 to 24 take me back to a couple of nights i've had just like that--i wish only that i'd described them as well as you have here
 — Bloodfetish

way wicked. I was kinda of rapping it in my head as i read it. don't know if thats what you intended but it worked. Good job.
 — Gray
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