(no subject)

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

Jean Toomer - Face

Hair --
silver-gray,
like streams of stars,
Brows --
recurved canoes
quivered by the ripples blown by pain,
Her eyes --
mist of tears
condensing on the flesh below
And her channeled muscles
are cluster grapes of sorrow
purple in the evening sun
nearly ripe for worms.

Comments

[ambiguitylotus.livejournal.com]

Wow. You should post more then. I like this piece so far. :)

[little-lady-d.livejournal.com]

alright. ^_^ some of it is prose, and some of it almost play-like -- but there's certainly some good poetry.