She scatters affection
like currency to the homeless.
A feast for urchins.
Babe,
she says,
through wan, worn teeth.
Babe,
I love this.
Her love is dry.
There’s nothing there,
a locust skin painted pink
and flung against a crowd.
Babe,
she says,
and something crawls,
akin to skin but not so near me,
crawling still and eerie.
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01/05/2012 at 00:04
nice piece
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03/08/2012 at 13:37
“a locust skin painted pink and flung against a crowd”- today I was thinking about how it would feel to really master words, to be able to shape them into what I wanted, how I wanted, and get my point across. I feel like you do that perfectly.
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03/08/2012 at 14:46
I’m glad you like it. Most of the time I feel lke I don’t own enough words to say what I’m really thinking
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04/08/2012 at 04:27
I can’t tell if your writing conveys what you are really thinking, but I can tell you that it is strongly effective at eliciting emotion. For me, it’s actually nicer to read well-used normal words rather than really long ones that are thrown together or even used wisely because sometimes, I don’t know all the nuances of the bigger ones.
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05/08/2012 at 00:31
I’m trying really hard to make something valid here, so it means a lot to me that my work has had an effect on you. I know what you’re saying, sometimes the simple words are the hardest to use because they get thrown around so recklessly.
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