A fluttering puddle on concrete
We draw closer, the pigeon's eyes roll
tucked into its neck
trapped alive
We gawk, grotesque, strolling past
clean streets of Madrid- no dog mess
The street cleaners will euthanize it
Breathe a little
Faint vibrations tingle in your core
It'll open w o u n d s
the one sutured shut
buried, in meaty healed over cells, f l e s h tone
It’ll sting, dull tarnished blade
black blood pools, brim of pain
saturating
in burn
flows to the rest of you
It’ll simmer, hiss, well up, up, up
surf the waves, ocean-you, whale watching
Relief flows in fire w a t e r
pleading, b r e a k s, crashing through sockets
Let them.
Someone cups their palms for a sip
the weight squared
on your shoulders
no.
You choose to drink solo, together
fingers grip bedsheets, knuckles whiten
H o l d i n g
I stare past into hazy sunlight
after the thundering rain
About the Creator
Michele Nampalli
This space is breath for my sensitivity. The poems come fully formed. I've known for quite some time now that my art is about receiving more than creation...its the most natural way I know to process my inner world. It started when I was 7.
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Comments (2)
The imagery throughout this poem was so intense and the emotions were overwhelming. As always, your poetry is mesmerizing and masterfully written.
I love the dark, intense imagery like "black blood pools" and "thundering rain."