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Wednesday, February 11
valentines day is brown
brown is the sand at night
pink snails brown shells
it is the skin i envy
and the strong wet mud after rain
the bottom of the bluest lake
farthest planets in your blue skies
a first parents signature
clutter that surrounds you and i
brown is coming in unwanted
and leaving with pink fingernails
a magic marker
a heart in the dark
is dads favorite color
kitchen table in the summer
sleeping with the lights on
wondering why we pave roads grey
arriving in a city with a headscarf on
brown is a fresh new page we
cannot see
cones and rods
the glitter inside sweat
fall view from an aeroplane
brown is guessing faces
kissing lamps to turn on lights
cork on wine of your eyes
the line between your lips
space escaping as my hands open smooth.
i need some advice on this-- does it sound... racial at all? that wasn't the intent. actually it was just because i was writing with a brown pen and listing off simalies and metaphoras. should i take out the "skin i envy" line?
sadie i think your poem makes sense as a dead guy. its very beautiful; kind of passive but the end works well and i'm glad you changed the title.
Giorgie 9:04:00 PM
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