We smile at each other
and I lean back against the wicker couch.
How does it feel to be dead? I say.
You touch my knees with your blue fingers.
...
Read full text
Life and death. Facing the facts. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Wow a breath taking poem, such an amazing read, will try to learn more of this poet.
A dialogue between the living and the dead. I think it succeeds. Michael Walker.
The imagery is vivid with beauty with tinges of horror, the sequence of young girls in a circle, makes me think of human sacrifices performed by pagan cultures. Theirs also a Lovecraftian feel, when she asks what its like to be dead but then doesn't want to hear it because it would alter her reality.
In figure skating my coach tells me that every movement I make must become one. She expressed that in her poem beautifully! Poetry, I feel must be about self-expression!
reminds me of the confessional style of Olds and Plath - excellent
and that's what it's like only ten times clearer, ten times more horrible............ Well played harmony between life and death.
wow pretty cool! ! sure when we think about death we get a chill but is not so bad...
Your own life Is a chain of words that one day will snap. Amazing imagery. Thanks for sharing.