image by Daniel Murtagh
courtesy Tess Kincaid's The Mag
Did I Say That Aloud?
I would touch your breast
with my skeletal fingers
but you shut your door
smiling as you do
and I am weather beaten
and wet and freezing
in the cold cold day.
I hope your power goes out.
I am all screwed up.
January 6, 2013 12:01 PM
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I placed your poem in the 'fascinating' category.
ReplyDeleteSharp and tangy, like fine cheese.
ReplyDeleteouch ...poor guy he needs help!
ReplyDeleteOuch is right! But there is something about this picture that so lends itself to this piece!
ReplyDeleteFreak
ReplyDeleteNot you
The narrator
LOL!! Thank you. Probably not me. :D I don't remember...but then how could I write this if I wasn't in the thick of it sometime? Anyway. You brightened up my day no end.
DeleteShe certainly slammed the door in your face!
ReplyDeleteOh, for god's sake, Christopher! You impossible romantic. That breast is just like mine, you stinker!
ReplyDeleteI don't think this poem's about you, whoever you are... and when was the last time my fingers were ever skeletal?
DeleteLOL
Love the quirky play in the last stanza...power/screwed...
ReplyDeleteWow. I didn't plan that. Thanks for pointing it out.
DeleteThe desire of the unavailable/unattainable does sort of screw us up at times.
ReplyDeleteAnna :o]
The chicken crossed the road and had me at "did I say that aloud"! love it Christopher!
ReplyDelete:-)
I am changing the title right now. :D "That" works much better than "It". I would be careful of the chicken though.
DeleteI really enjoyed this!
ReplyDeleteVery Grim Reaper, like some half remembered memory , floating to the surface , craving more life. On ya mate
ReplyDeleteI'm glad she shut the door. Having your breast fondled by skeletal fingers doesn't sound all that appealing or erotic. This piece is interesting all the same!
ReplyDeleteBut I LOOOOOOOVE you.
DeleteMy fingers have actually always been rather fat...
ReplyDelete