RetroLounge
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Sat May-03-08 09:09 AM
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The RetroLounge Daily Poem Thread (Sat 5/3/2008) |
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Body Sonnet #13
Our beach finds fill the kitchen bowl: split blue mussel, ark shell, oyster, whelk stripped to its column. Tonight, the boys asleep upstairs, we face each other at the table
and rattle shells in our hands. I can't see yours. I hold the whelk and two bleached oyster chips. I like their noise. I like knowing what's lived inside. You say, We haven't talked for weeks.
You say I look too thin. I want to tell you my child-ribs surprised me last night in the mirror. I play my little shells, the meter of the speech I want to make, the piano
for the singing in my head, the piano with its bony, knowing hammers.
Heidi Hart
***********************
:hi:
RL
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lizziegrace
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Sat May-03-08 09:14 AM
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:hug:
"We haven't talked for weeks."
feels like the beginning of the end. So sad.
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RetroLounge
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Sat May-03-08 12:31 PM
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CaliforniaPeggy
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Sat May-03-08 11:40 AM
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The marriage is hidden in the midst of those shells...
They are hiding themselves there too...
Such a sad feeling indeed...
But beautiful at the same time...
Thank you!
:hi:
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DU
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Thu May 09th 2024, 01:34 AM
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