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Click heremy love for him dislodges, flies off into a tree
out of reach, clinging by sixteen claws
it gleams purple-red-green amongst the leaves
metallic, mylar-exciting, it shakes its spines
regards me with heart shaped eyes
I grab at it, popping up, down on tip toes
slippery, sharp as it is, I finally grip it
try to shove it back in my gut—
it no longer fits.
This is really good! Like Tess's comment, the last line is a punch to the gut. I might have made it its own 1 line stanza with some eye space between it and the rest of the poem for that microscopic sigh before the end of it.
High five.
your usual strong stuff but I agree with others tht it could be pared down more--there are certain phrases that feel unnecessary (like "mylar-exciting"). x
and even though i think this would be stronger with cutbacks on extra words, i love your original take on this age old sadness, its bright visuals ... its bald, sad statement.
....are clever the way you make the love a slightly sinister beast, that gives us a premonition that it's terminal. I'm not sure about line 6. The last line is a perfect punch to the gut. Well done.
Tess