by Ainne Frances dela Cruz
In dark girls I see your skin. The lines of veins delicately whispering on the underside of your arms. The graceful motion of your fingers, how you always seemed on air, entrapped with wings; you who only had to rise to fly.
I, in another time, I see you. Dark of night, and dead weights, as everything must be to your ancient body. Yet, I love this of you. Even the headiness of the scent of entrails rushing after you, slapping on my hair, and I am left, matted and bloodied. And my heart left matted and bloodied.
I see now, you wanted to eat my heart. Dark blood pulsing through arteries. Transparency? Doesn’t my skin scream my love? Yes, my heart is yours. You only had to ask.
Do you remember Chinese water torture? One drop a minute to a prisoner would seem like an eternity of waiting for the deluge. And this, your wings rushing through light, beating through my ears like bats, high-pitched, tortures me. Wanting to get through your skin, carried away on your nails. Wanting to be you, dark as flight, as flight is, to one land-bound.
I am bound to one who flits from transparency, to a land opaque, where feelings must darken, and become murky. From water to blood, from oxygen to air so thin and pure, I have trouble breathing. But this is what we come to in the end, isn’t it? You have clutched me so tightly that I can let go and fall, but always find myself in your talons. The nails curved inwardly, my stomach heaves.
To become one, to be so close that the skin you hold is my skin, that when I look through the dark, I can see you. To hold me as if I was in you, your skin, your blood, my blood, one. This is what you do best, isn’t it? Touch things about to vanish. In your eyes I see myself. Will you see me always this way? Lips stained with your blood, fingers gripping your wings.
Do you want to fly? you asked. I nodded. Then close your eyes. The first bite, the first tear at my skin does feel like weightlessness. Levitation, blood escaping from me, finally free, skin to skin, and body to body. No longer heavy. You carried me forever. You don’t have to do so now.
I can fly.
Paper Monster Press Dream Pop Issue
Copyright ©:
2011
A few random poems:
- Tulips by Sylvia Plath
- Юлия Жадовская – Всё ты уносишь, нещадное время
- Как заработать на сочинении собственных стихов: варианты заработка денег стихотворениями – Poetry Monster
- Hobbinol; or The Rural Games by William Somervile
- Sonnet CXII by William Shakespeare
- Autumn Day by Rainer Maria Rilke
- any_man_speaks.html
- When to the sessions of sweet silent thought (Sonnet 30) by William Shakespeare
- Иван Дмитриев – Смерть и Умирающий
- By The Fates poem – Alfred Austin
- Джон Донн – Ничто
- Among All Lovely Things My Love Had Been by William Wordsworth
- “Let the nymph still avoid and be deaf to the swain” by Tobias Smollett
- Robert Burns: A Bard’s Epitaph:
- Mr. Eliot’s Sunday Morning Service by T. S. Eliot
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Otho The Great – Act II poem – John Keats poems
- Otho The Great – Act I poem – John Keats poems
- On Visiting The Tomb Of Burns poem – John Keats poems
- On Receiving A Laurel Crown From Leigh Hunt poem – John Keats poems
- On Receiving A Curious Shell poem – John Keats poems
- On Hearing The Bag-Pipe And Seeing “The Stranger” Played At Inverary poem – John Keats poems
- On Death poem – John Keats poems
- On A Dream poem – John Keats poems
- Ode. Written On The Blank Page Before Beaumont And Fletcher’s Tragi-Comedy ‘The Fair Maid Of The In poem – John Keats poems
- Ode To Apollo poem – John Keats poems
- O Blush Not So! poem – John Keats poems
- Lines Written In The Highlands After A Visit To Burns’s Country poem – John Keats poems
- Lines To Fanny poem – John Keats poems
- Lines Rhymed In A Letter From Oxford poem – John Keats poems
- Lines On Seeing A Lock Of Milton’s Hair poem – John Keats poems
- Lamia. Part II poem – John Keats poems
- Lamia. Part I poem – John Keats poems
- King Stephen poem – John Keats poems
- Isabella; Or, The Pot Of Basil: A Story From Boccaccio poem – John Keats poems
- I Stood Tip-Toe Upon A Little Hill poem – John Keats poems
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works