Bury my lovely
Bury the lies
Bury me under
A thousand goodbyes
--October Project, Bury My Lovely
she sipped her coffee
smiled with her lips against the cup
he loved that/
he excavated
she curled with warm blankets
and hummed notes
curiously hard to harmonize/
he turned up the volume
on a dare
and dream-devoured
every proof in her carnal geometry/
she stared into his colors
and sugared the lattice of her DNA
12 comments:
I really love that one Jason x
this gave me the distinct feeling i could read each of their thoughts independently.. what an excellent thought process.. really enjoyed this....
This is like a driving chord progression that speaks more than the lyrics can.
I like the sense of advancing and retreating...until she drops the distractions and lets him in. A bold, and sweet, convergence of the masculine and feminine. Lovely, Jason.
into the lattice of her DNA
that's like cyberpunk poetry man...and thta is freaking awesome...romanic as romantic should be.
N
Girl with the Mask, thanks for telling me so. :)
Paisley, it was a kind of half artsy, half chemical progression. I liked the window into their thoughts too.
Sarah, like the dance of uncertainties finding a rhythm. Perhaps why the moment persists, even after the dark weight of the introduction.
Nothingman, I'd like to use that as a blurb! What an uber-cool description. Much appreciated!
I love the language of it.
This is excellent Jason! I particularly love the last line.
www.mypoeticpath.wordpress.com
"...and dream-devoured
every proof in her carnal geometry"
Ooooh, sexy!
"sugared the lattice of her dna"
Just awesome.
Thank you my dear friend for your warm words in my post.
Jason,
Your words, like a lady in lingerie, are more enticing than a naked truth.
Pleasing to my imagination.
rel
Aggie, thanks. It's fun to see what every day brings.
Geraldine, something a bit suggestive there. ;)
Meghan, I was looking for a different take on describing on describing the wonders of female beauty.
Jaye, thanks! :) Who knew organic chemistry could be so inspiring?
Fancy, my pleasure, my friend.
Remiman, so true. What's not said, not seen, is like gasoline thrown on the fire.
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