Demonstrate
How would you do it. Show me. Demonstrate.
What is the sequence of gestures. Do I start
with my nose on your wrist, or do I wait until
you have offered it. Or your nose at my wrist,
we take turns being bloodhounds. How do you
know which part of me is a curtain, and which
a window. Do you go around tying back every
curtain you see. What have you seen. Show me.
You gesture, and I’ll guess. Monster. Surprised
by a monster. Hearing. Your ear. No, sounds like.
Sounds like ear. Fear? Fear. Are you afraid to
act this out. Please don’t be, my dear. Let me see.
I love this. It's so intense, so intimate.
ReplyDeleteThat is exactly how we demonstrate! xo
ReplyDeleteFor some reason this reminds me of sleepy, tense Thanksgivings with my husband's family. Don't know why.
ReplyDeleteI adore this line: "How do you
ReplyDeleteknow which part of me is a curtain, and which a window." I wish I had this poem to link to when I wrote my Sartre post.
Very well-written! You convey the sense of game that's also about much more. I also like "How do you / know which part of me is a curtain, and which / a window. Do you go around tying back every/curtain you see."
ReplyDeletemakes me think of how I felt in japan.... ;)
ReplyDeletethea.
xx
I'd rather put wrist to nose than nose to wrist. I see what controllingaspicyuniverse means -- there's something kind of demanding about the speaker in the poem.
ReplyDeleteCherades, of course! Loved your stream of consciousness poetry thoughts flowing down the page.
ReplyDelete