I'm just hitting you with all kinds of stuff this week.
Inexperienced
The vastness of oblivion,
bedazzled,
hovers.
Inhaling and exhaling the sky.
The water’s lapping.
The crickets chirping.
The cicadas buzzing.
I squirm.
Electric tension mounts.
The inch between us a canyon.
I want to.
Well… I want you to.
The galaxies blur and fade.
I glance,
your face.
You’re looking.
I look.
Giggles.
Our gazes return to heaven.
Palm up.
So obvious.
Just grab it.
A twitch.
I watch as you squeeze… and then stretch… and then drop your hand.
Sigh. Palm down.
But then, I itsy-bitsy-spider crawl it towards you,
rest it dangerously near,
and then hook it in a pinky promise.
All while outlining Ursa Minor.
Your move.
not sure if I want an explanation on this one.
ReplyDeleteDad
@Dad - You've got to realize that the number one rule in reading poetry is that you can't assume that the speaker of the poem is the author. In fact, it never is. Plus, if this was autobiographical, I'm pretty sure this is the most innocent poem a twenty-year old could write.
ReplyDeleteIt could have been third grade I did not know,just kidding anyway .I did like the part with the giggles it made me smile.
ReplyDeleteLove Dad