Digital Tapestry

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You shine in sunlight:
as bright fiery hair
singes your shoulders,
warming your face

as you toss your head.
Your fingers stoke
the strands in a flowing
cascade drawing me to flame.

I reach out to touch
your hair, breathe
your scent, suddenly
you quickly flash away:

an image on a screen
words branding a picture:
searing a digital tapestry
into the phone lines.
 
 

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2 Comments
LeBrozLeBrozover 16 years ago
~~

This poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 37,500 poems.

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twelveoonetwelveooneabout 18 years ago
*

Very Consistent to here:

a digital tapestry

into the phone lines.

I would take these two lines and shove them in another poem, they are good, but at the end of this one you want something that either really burns/ or quenches

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