whitereflection (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whitereflection) wrote2011-05-28 05:17 pm
whitereflection) wrote2011-05-28 05:17 pm
Entry tags:
a taste of our flames
Swailing
Sunday morning,
just past 6
or 7
road dust on your shoes
creeping up your
pant legs
and you smell
like you've been rolling in a bonfire.
Some days
you think you sweat
charcoal lighter fluid.
(There's always salt on your
skin;
Some days
you think when you snap your fingers
you'll spark fire
At least then
you won't have to
carry all that with you anymore.)
Cleaning your tools of the trade
the plowshares
you both beat back into
swords
gravel grinds
beneath your feet
as your stance shifts with the motions
(Your stance was steady
last night--
mountain wide, redwood tall,
you've grown up
solid as you
dreamed you'd be.)
Hum a song
you know he hates.
He whistles while he works
(some ancient tune you can't stand)
rebuilding guns
like Jenga puzzles
(take out the
bullet
but they don't fall down)
You're a discordant harmony.
Funny how it sounds
just fine
to you.
The world slams shut
hollow metal whomp
but everything you orbit is still
right here
He stands next to you; you're taller
but he always plants himself as your
windbreak.
Shoulder pressed to shoulder
hip to hip
There's the bump of knees;
there's the kick of his boot
against yours.
You kick him back.
Sunrise spreads flames
across the sky
like wildfire
It's dawn, and you smell like
smoke.
Sunday morning,
just past 6
or 7
road dust on your shoes
creeping up your
pant legs
and you smell
like you've been rolling in a bonfire.
Some days
you think you sweat
charcoal lighter fluid.
(There's always salt on your
skin;
Some days
you think when you snap your fingers
you'll spark fire
At least then
you won't have to
carry all that with you anymore.)
Cleaning your tools of the trade
the plowshares
you both beat back into
swords
gravel grinds
beneath your feet
as your stance shifts with the motions
(Your stance was steady
last night--
mountain wide, redwood tall,
you've grown up
solid as you
dreamed you'd be.)
Hum a song
you know he hates.
He whistles while he works
(some ancient tune you can't stand)
rebuilding guns
like Jenga puzzles
(take out the
bullet
but they don't fall down)
You're a discordant harmony.
Funny how it sounds
just fine
to you.
The world slams shut
hollow metal whomp
but everything you orbit is still
right here
He stands next to you; you're taller
but he always plants himself as your
windbreak.
Shoulder pressed to shoulder
hip to hip
There's the bump of knees;
there's the kick of his boot
against yours.
You kick him back.
Sunrise spreads flames
across the sky
like wildfire
It's dawn, and you smell like
smoke.
no subject
I know I don't usually comment on your poems, but I love them. This one especially.
no subject
You are the firebreak
of your brother's soul and he's
lit up from within.
His fire started the
day you were born; you breathe
in, he breathes out smoke.
They are unworthy.no subject