Happy Brit.
Content
This is a poem I wrote over a year ago that I found tucked away in my journal, I’m going to air it out.
Content
The pattern of his sleeve, tiny squares
against the inside of my arm. My cheek,
his cotton covered chest rising; falling.
Hand upon my hair, in the crook of my neck.
The lightest weight upon my ears, and
the sparks from the base of my spine to it’s peak.
A scattering of voices filter down the hall
Winding towards me, raising. Lilting, the
laughter bounces through and off the walls.
I know they have awoken. Too loud for me to sleep,
so admit defeat and join the all-too-early harmonies
of clink and jabber.
Waves and waves before me, reach where the golden
surface of the earth I meth, smiling below the vivid,
electric lid of space. Sundried orange leaves, their green
fruits shelled. A private-public paradise of a naked body
beneath a cotton towel.
Sinking into where I am more than I’ve ever felt.
-b
Oct. 13th, 2010
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Lover, lifer, writer. Journalism student, and Vancouver freelancer. This is my personal blog with a lot of my own poetry and intimate entries. I am continuously inspired by successful, talented and innovative women, and I try to reflect that as much as possible. I hope you enjoy.
"Cento" Copyright © Andrew Brinker 2011.
