Pinch Me. Please.
©2016 Susan Noyes Anderson
Perhaps I’ve slipped the bonds of earth too soon,
or maybe I have simply loosed my grip
and orbited, a rather ghastly trip
that leaves me somewhere underneath the moon.
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Perhaps I’ve slipped the bonds of earth too soon,
or maybe I have simply loosed my grip
and orbited, a rather ghastly trip
that leaves me somewhere underneath the moon.
I’m on hiatus from my life
but not by choice.
Don’t get me wrong, as my kids’ mom,
I have a voice.
My love called me a rose.
I’m happy, heaven knows.
And yet, my stem is torn
‘twixt beauty and the thorn.
i cannot write
it’s all gone wrong
my words elude me
like a song
that i’ve sung
many times before
and yet recall
the tune no more
The world does not depend on me, I know.
I am no expert here, no talking head.
My currents drive no universal flow.
Wisdom will not go missing when I’m dead.
Her hair is dressed in roses;
a waved trellis,
verdant and visceral,
rooted in animus
(head-as-hostile-soil).
She loves him with a love profound,
but not that well-expressed.
The sweetness sings inside her heart
but rarely leaves her chest.
Your every move is cagey, I suspect;
and thus I am a trifle circumspect
in interactions co-opted by you.