Here

by Skyfire   May 20, 2013


On a stormy Sunday,
when I'm eating chocolate kisses
{which remind me
of the feeling I get
when it rains}
I paint my nails with pink and hearts--
like varnished love, really,
shiny like lightning.

Or maybe glass.

And I remember that I like
to wake up next to you
with you breathing heavy in my hair.
It's much better when
the sky is gray--
because then, you see,
I don't have to remember
how blinding the world is.
And there's nothing to hear
but thunder--
like dragging boxes full of books
and mementos and things.

Who knows, truly?
The rain is plummeting
to the trees,
and all I really know is that
sunlight is too transparent
and everyone is looking
through it.

Yes, like glass.

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Latest Comments

  • 10 years ago

    by Hannah Lizette

    I really like the whole concept of this poem, how the sunlight is like glass, transparent...as well as the love and sadness of missing him is incorporated.

    "like dragging boxes full of books
    and mementos and things.
    Like dragging full boxes
    over a rollicking floor."

    -This sounded awkward to me. I don't think you need 'like dragging full boxes' here twice. I would mesh them together and it would flow better. :)

    Nice piece!