Monday, April 29, 2013

That Sweater Matches Your Eyes

That Sweater Matches Your Eyes

Irises as skeins of yarn, infinity-
looped. Faux bois fingerprints,

carnation pink days-old papercut,
no pain at all in the finger, in the

hand or skin. This body is a textile,
planet person’s atmosphere, outline

traced by a marker while we lie down,
thin, unsteady line left once we get up.


2 comments:

  1. Lovely ekphrastic poem, Hannah. Wonderful line this: 'Your body is a textile....' Your concluding lines make me think of the impression we sometimes leave on bed sheets that we stretch to make disappear.

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  2. lovely lovely...people do say that a lot, don't they, that "that sweater matches your eyes"!

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