Monday, December 31, 2012

I wish you well

I'm looking at you, thinking about how I can't stop this
                                                                  spate of sound and how it's making me
wonder.
Wonder if, finally,
             I've gone stark, raving mad.  But I'm losing a little more light every day so I'm wringing 'em out and letting 'em dry.
             They're
flapping and fighting the wind but the fresh air is doing them good.
        I'm not about
                                                  to rescue them - or you.  This time.  I'm
watching from the window and I'm writing you a wish for this forthcoming year.  I'm feeling the contour of the former and the finished and the figuration of the edge
 of
  forever, the scarp we stood on, not
                                so long ago.
                                            And, then, your lack of any of any
                                                                          kind and your silence and your superfluity and all
                                                                                                                                  the wrong moments and near misses. I'm recalling how my fingers traced your wound and how I knew I'd  leave another and suffer one, as well.  I'm envisioning the abundance
arched above
your absence.  I am questioning your innocence as well as mine.  And I'm remembering testing
       the integrity of your infrastructure, one foot weighing each rickety step leading up the spiral
                                                 curve of impenitent insistence
                                                                                    and the house of intrigue, completely
                                                                                                                         crashing down but safe and home, I'm noting, too, your silhouette still
                   hanging on my wall. So, I'm editing, now, emotion and offering you, instead of hope,
 the truth and I'm telling you,
                                                                             I wish you well.


Write at the Merge

11 comments:

  1. Lovely. I like how you structured this, the build up to the simple honest statement of "I wish you well" at the end. Nicely done.

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  2. I really enjoyed reading this. The way you give so much detail about the relationship through the emotions involved and then the final, simple wish, when sometimes those simple gestures are the hardest to give, is just beautiful.

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  3. The arching lines of poetry looked like the spiral staircase you allude to in its text. Well done!

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  4. I like the visual presentation of this piece. The flow of the language, turning in on itself, was beautiful. Great job!

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  5. I love this line, "I'm recalling how my fingers traced your wound and how I knew I'd leave another and suffer one, as well." It is the honesty of relationships -- at some point, your will hurt and be hurt, whether it is a small hurt or a large one, and if you allow the hurt to heal, you can move forward with only a small scar. Lovely!

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    Replies
    1. So true. To love means to be vulnerable.

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  6. I love the rhythm here. I read it over and over, just to feel the beat.

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  7. Amazing. I love the formatting - it lends a powerfulness to the piece that would not otherwise be there.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks. Not everyone is a fan of my formatting ;)

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