- Non-Erotic Poetry
- imagning cinnamon
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Click herei walked around the house this morning
looking for signs of you.
five new empty soda cans,
a new wallpaper for your desktop
and three dishes later
i was starting to think you were a ghost. hoping you hadn't died,
i decided to think of you
as my imaginary friend.
it started to make sense why i felt you so much but saw you so little.
your pants were on the living room floor
begging to be put on girl hips.
the small hole in the knee
from when they last wanted to hug my waist.
in your pocket was that heart shaped rock
i brought back from santa monica.
it still felt sharp on one edge
(like the beach without you).
sitting cross legged on the couch
watching saturday morning cartoons,
i suddenly caught the smell
of the cinnamon color of your hair.
it disappeared quickly,
taking with it the will to hold back tears.
- COMMENTS
tarablackwood22over 19 years ago...is the fourth poem of yours I have read recently, and I liked them all very much. I think your thought flow is excellent and your images very well-chosen. I see no reason for the two line extensions, and, unless they are simply formatting errors, I think they were poorly conceived. This:
your pants were on the living room floor
begging to be put on girl hips.
the small hole in the knee
from when they last wanted to hug my waist.
...needs editing (comma after 'hips'?), and the last line there could be improved, I think.
edit (heart-shaped + cross-legged) for hyphens.
You give every indication that you are on the verge of writing some exceptional poetry.
tungtied2uover 19 years agois what I see so vividly described here. Very moving and interesting viewpoint. Thank you.
annaswirlsover 19 years agothis is the first of your poems I have read. This is bittersweet-- you conveyed your feeling of being so close to someone without their physical presence. Nicely done!
I do not use the thermometer.
