Writing at a whim

Saturday, October 13, 2012

We Become New

We Become New by Marge Piercy

How it feels to be touching
you: an Io moth, orange
and yellow as pollen,
wings through the night
miles to mate,
could crumble in the hand.

Yet our meaning together
is hardy as an onion
and layered.
Goes into the blood like garlic.
Sour as rose hips.
Gritty as whole grain.

Fragrant as thyme honey.
When I am turning slowly
in the woven hammocks of our talk,
when I am chocolate melting into you,
I taste everything new
in your mouth.

You are not my old friend.
How did I used to sit
and look at you? Now
though I seem to be standing still
I am flying flying flying
in the trees of your eyes.

Labels:


/11:23 PM

about me

vanessa.
boring and inscrutable.
satirical and opinionated.
sardonic but innocuous.
enigmatic and taciturn.
pococurante but caring.
neurotic but with equanimity.
you wouldn't get me at all,
cause I wouldn't let you.

quote

"Let me tell you this: Some of life's questions you have to answer, some you just have to dance your face off and scream "no comment."" --- John Mayer

drop a line

previously
my past


you people

3 of us
Cell
Desiree
Eunice
Freesia
Janice
Jasmine Wee
Jessie
Jiaying
Kristal
Pearlly
Shiyun
Tingen
Wanwen
Weilien
Xinyi