For A Woman With No Sixth Sense Poem by jay Arr
For A Woman With No Sixth Sense
That pricking you never felt under your thumbs,
was me papering over the crack in our lives
with old love letters, stuck with words
stolen from the tip of your tongue.
And those painful poems
were folded into
origami boats,
windblown
when the
delicate
hairs on
your neck
failed to rise
it was not that breeze,
but my lips brushing yours,
which gently blew the fleet out to sea.
hummm...very interesting poem....and the lay of it...like a crest of a wave....works wonderously with the content....this crest before the crash! BOOM, this poem works for me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/6/2024 12:10:36 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Well, howdy doody there Jay Arr! This was a cotton pickin' hum dinger of a poem. I just loved every line. Later Gypsy :)