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Submitted on
December 18, 2012
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I have forgotten or never knew
the pulse of a love that stretches across oceans.
Forgotten
or never knew
or lied.

So long ago now,
though visions of that churning shore still leave tender bedrock exposed
beneath the pulsing folds of cardiovascular muscle --
as if in his wake the Earth spoke in tremors
instead of in turns taken through the void...

It isn't fear that stays the shaking hand,
not time that keeps the frenzied beating in check, no,
just the jagged gravel of memory left in ashy knees all those years ago
when we swore to bury what pain we knew,
what suffering we forewent
to undergo a change of heart.
I used to dig at the pieces when things got too quiet,
would try to expedite their natural expulsion from those raised, white, bulbous scars...
I waited years for the ache to subside, but even now
I hear
the rattling of
newly liberated rock fragments
against the walls
of the dryer
in
the laundry room.

So I have not forgotten the wide expanse of the Atlantic,
the bitter chill of the barren river,
your perforated name,
our punctuated relationship,
the acrid smell of years and years of bleach...

But why waste a chance
for a different kind of stain?
Weird image, weird piece, but I'm in need of some growth: I had this all in one stanza, but wasn't sure how I felt about it, so I split it up. Comments and critiques appreciated.
:iconpazlowq:
A lot of the metaphors feel a tad repetitive in this one, you do use a lot of 'stretching' and imply long distances/gaps between the two individuals here. The strength of the work centers on the narrator's coping with their relationship, and trying to move on but constantly dragging herself back to review and go over what may have gone wrong in their relationship. I think its in this struggle of the narrator, that makes this piece very relatable to the audience, we've all in our introspective moments looked back, and analyzed and over analyzed painful memories, whether they're endings of relationships like the narrators or other things.

I think towards the end the narrator's struggle to move on manifests itself in feeling like she should put herself out there, even though the past is still somewhat holding her back. I suppose if there is an underlying truth here, its that time does heal all wounds, but time isn't tied to our schedules. This is a decent work telling a very common and emotional story.
What do you think?
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:icondreamnesiak:
Dreamnesiak Dec 18, 2012  Professional General Artist
I love it! As always, your words are like a dance through my mind and this poem conveys a wonderful masochistic pining that resonates too well in me.
Typo:
last line of second stanza "of of."
Things that stick out to me:
the line "in" tripped up the flow of it for me. probably intentional, but it felt out of place.
the phrase "our punctuated relationship," particularly the word "relationship" felt out of character for your writing, telling instead of showing.
Other than that: rock the fuck on!
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