After my official break up with fiction, I’ve been steadily committed to working on my memoir project and this space. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been writing something. I don’t know life without it. My first true love was poetry. I don’t write it as much anymore, especially after a project 365 where I wrote a poem a day for a year. But some days it happens and I spent the better part of my Sunday working through this one. Enjoy.
Melancholic Meanderings in Ink
Saved with the promise of a kiss;
a life preserver on the Titanic.
Parties and prayers sift through sound
sailing through the night.
My fingers slowly scan
shoulders down the spine
remembering every contour.
Your touch tattooed on my skin.
Fire never forgets.
Alone in a crowded room–
I cannot look away; I cannot see.
Air swirls wrapping, twisting around
my insides. Tightening
at every want withheld.
Glittering like ice in the night.