Between a heartbeat and a sigh, you said
(as if with reason):
“We’ve reached an end”.
I noticed then, how close to treason words can be;
a precipice you never see,
how close to flying, falling is.
Your hands seem colder now, when flames
have iced to blame.
The sun’s an orange, moon is ice, and stars
have dulled from silver into scars.
My night is filled with fall of heavy feet,
suspicions, whispers, absent gasps
Who did you meet?
My bed sheets snakes around my chest;
and does it’s best
to compensate for absent limbs entwined.
Today it’s Victoria behind the bars at dVerse and she will give us some insight into the use of meter to give emotional impact to a poem. This might seem like free verse but I think I have used every iambic meter from dimeter to hexameter. Come join us when the bar opens at 3 PM EST.
June 16, 2016