Absence of Is

It grew colder.

The sky split at its seams

And spilt its precious dark

So that I could not see

The look in your eyes,

Nor hear

The well-formed words

You forced from frozen lips;

Whose insinuations 

Became entangled in my hair.

I was grateful then,

That I was just a shadow,

Imitation of breath.

I could escape

Through pause in prose.

As you spoke on;

Reverently received 

By the never-was,

I sat scribbling 

Onto the back of a song sheet;

Words that terrify me.

Reviews

[Audrey Howitt]

I was grateful then,
That I was just a shadow,
Imitation of breath.
I could escape
Through pause in prose.


Such beautiful writing

[Hotwater]

It sounds bleak and grim, words scrambling, wanting to be heard but both parties not switched on to one another, and each thinking they're right. (my view!)
*bird*

[asdarkeyesclose]

arguments with those we care most about are always the most difficult to deal with and i understand that wishing not to be there denial. Great punch in that final line because there is always an answer even if it isn't spoken. i loved the texture of the poetry, the images falling thick and fast.

[Ed Hart]

shades of poe