you
a cynical exploration of the intimate
The skin glistens (hurting my eyes)
Pearl-drops of water (false gems)
Sliding down (leaving a trail of wet)
Down
Misty breath (warm)
Fogged up mirror (I write your name)
Life force in, life force out (we breathe together)
Old cells pilling (scrubbed clean of impurities)
Arms rubbed raw (bleeding)
Thighs touching
Warm, damp thing
The smell of skin (a sour animal)
Making hearts thump simultaneously
The stories twine together (enmeshed and desperate)
Leaving body aches and
A guttural lurch in being (until there is nothing left to give)
Diamond eyes (deluded)
A voice like water (a honey-tongued snake)
You uncommon thing.
*Incidentally I first wrote this without all the words in parentheses … it reads as a very different poem! But the stipulated word count of 100 words forced me to expand it, so the result is this.
About the Creator
Melanie Tongmar
Life in analog. Writer. Grower of things.
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More stories from Melanie Tongmar and writers in Poets and other communities.
I AM
This is not who I thought I would be. Before my family was captured and forced into slavery, I had aspirations of becoming a wealthy business owner or possibly a scholar and philosopher. Becoming a warrior was the furthest thing from my mind. Unfortunately, our Roman conquerors had other plans.
By Mark Gagnona day ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
I’m a minimalist when it comes to poetry, so I struggle with the 100 word minimum. This was a creative way to adapt your poem to fit the guidelines, and it reads beautifully with the parentheses. Earthy and animalistic. I love it.