The whole winter break came and went with no entry. Back home I had little access to Internet, something that proved to be more refreshing than frustrating. So now, I am making up for it and find myself at the computer more than I’d like.
I will be brief, only leaving you with a poem I have written more in celebration of breaking through a creative block I’ve been suffering through. I am taking my final poetry class at college and find myself more out of sync than I remember. This is still a rough draft, prior to work-shopping, so a final draft is well on its way. Until then. . .
To Drown
The slightest touch
can break
the skin.
It came over me once: skin,
bed, walls
writhing, wading.
I was sinking.
It seized me,
this knotted weight
keeping me from the surface.
Above the bed sheets,
the dim contours
of shifting furniture stood,
holding my breath
just over my lips,
dangling.
The underwater voice
pinning me
sounded so distant
in its low animal moans.
That cry – the last
part that belonged
to me – escaped:
sharp,
instant,
from the belly, it struck
the throbbing darkness.
Like a wounded dog,
a yelp
quickly muffled by his hand
and he pulled me
back
down.
How strange,
the frantic
thrashing
of bedding – that feathered sound – reminded me
of flight.
No comments:
Post a Comment