Brass Frottage
By littleditty
Mon, 09 Aug 2010
- 4592 reads
13 comments
I, wrapped around your spoon,
Honeyed and warm, sheet hot
Milk running down your form.
Don’t take the I from a poem
Of liquid gold, the amberling glow
Of touches, fingertip to toe.
It isn’t me in the spotlight,
Just in heat – from Mercury
Rising, from silvery shadows
Dancing the age it takes to trace
The top brass bronze of you.
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Comments
Really beautiful poem, ld!
Permalink Submitted by MistakenMagic on
Really beautiful poem, ld! Your imagery is just superb and wonderfully compact. Especially loved:
'Don’t take the I from a poem
Of liquid gold, the amberling glow
Of touches, fingertip to toe.'
Magic xxx
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Everything Magic said - she
Everything Magic said - she literally took the words right out of my mouth!
Beautiful,
J x
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Hi Littleditty, Just wanted
Permalink Submitted by skinner_jennifer on
Hi Littleditty,
Just wanted to say, beautiful words.
Congratulations on the cherry.
Jenny.
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Wow - this took my breath
Permalink Submitted by Canary Islander on
Wow - this took my breath away.
So much, in so few words...
:-)
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Hi there, ld;-) Still on
Permalink Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on
Hi there, ld;-) Still on top-form...and some.
Tina;-)xx
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short and sweet! Yes so much
short and sweet! Yes so much in a few words;)
pia->
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Like everyone else said -
Permalink Submitted by Kit_Caless on
Like everyone else said - great imagery.
I love the last two lines.
Technical point: Am I wrong in thinking there should be some sort of punctuation after 'your form'? The sentences don't seem to fit as one?
Kit
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