Open Book // poem April 2010

-
My face peels as if getting to the middle
 of a twisted plot,
my spine is sore,
 I’m used too much,
I’ve got finger stains

 from every one whose ever touched me.

Some of my inside is missing,
how does one
 come to the ending of things

if you have to keep skipping the important parts;
 
It doesn’t matter really, you get the  gist of what I’m saying.
I’m worn and lightweight

 as a paperback laid out on a summer day.

You read my expressions plainly;
your eyes
 skimming over the poor grammar,
 you say “
I want to write myself in your story
“
and  scribble your name on my arm.
.
.
.
instagram: theprettypoems
etsy shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/HylaBrookBooks

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Review: At the Edge of the Orchard

-
Image
There are authors I'll always grab if I find them sitting on the shelf at the thrift store. Tracy Chevalier stood out like a sword in a stone. I read The Girl with a Pearl Earring years ago and remember fawning over it. In my hands now was her book, "At the Edge of the Orchard" and I knew something good was waiting for me in these pages. Tracey Chevalier is a historical fiction writer. The time period  for this book - 19th century America, I really enjoy reading about, watching movies about, this book was right up my ally - during the time of the Gold Rush, westward expansion, a story about a man and apple seeds. The story goes deeper and roots play a metaphorical purpose in this story - where we decide to uproot ourselves, the people involved in our own family tree, and the way Tracy describes the trees to you, you almost wouldn't believe it. I'm determined to see the Red Woods and Sequoias my self. Her attention to detail makes it to where every scene ...
Read more

The Orange Tree By The Ocean // a poem

-
Rolling it over in my head As I stretch my neck in circles. I’m thinking of you How you make me feel. My head feels great. The way you touch me makes me tremble beneath you My breath shakes itself out and I am entirely yours. I know that you love me by how hard it is To keep the secret hidden Do you want to make love to me? – Hours of hot excitement. I lie in my bed, my hand on my stomach And remember how warm you are. I don’t know how to make you happy. Only to show you how happy you make me. Love that feeling of new new happiness The ripe orange with the citris scent You breathe in and smile radiantly under the hot sun, butt naked, the color of a pearl. You hold me like a gift from the sea, ocean nymph in your arms, your triumphant eyes sink to the bottom of me. When we kiss, it’s as good as a mouth watering orange down by the ocean. . . . instagram: theprettypoems etsy shop: https://www.etsy.com/shop/HylaBrookBooks
Read more

A Peach // a poem

-
Once they thought they had finished all they had left They just laid like that for a while, sharing large exhausts from their working love. He is not so weak from it, in fact, he is made stronger because of it and when he stands naked Like that it reminds me of a Greek God overwhelmed at the site of acres of her skin when he moves slowly over it Remarking on all he can before he Pledged his loyalty to an absolute rose and swore her generous majesty That he could bask in their love’s glory whenever He chose to love her, as if he had the choice Not to. He made circles over her stomach With his fingers like skimming the fuzz of a peach Before kissing it. Support Through Patreon https://www.patreon.com/prettypoems <> follow me on social media <> I N S T A G R A M Hyla Brook Books – my shop The Pretty Poems – My Poetry
Read more