i am less an open book to you
than a blank page
you write on me with your fingers
your words sink into my skin
like your teeth
and i am tattooed by your multicolor voice
you do not erase
only write over the soft, pink scars
the touch of your fingertips
like a singing water glass
16 thoughts on “words that can’t be spoken or spelled (20170225)”
That last line is wonderful—the sound so pure but it sets the teeth on edge too.
Thanks! Yes, there’s something both beautiful and unsettling about that crystalline hum.
Like it comes from another dimension, and it isn’t necessarily happy…
I have a feeling I’m going to pursue this a little further.
Maybe with one of your painting prompts…
Good idea. Just have to get the paintbox out.
Like a singing water glass
What a line
Whaaaaaaaaats up my friend
How’s the left coast
The left coast is still here, my friend. Wet and gray, but that means things will be green. Hopefully it means my peach tree will start blossoming soon.
Let’s hope for fresh fruit
I’d like to re-post this on my site, if you are good with that…
Of course! Thank you ❤
Reblogged this on Are You Thrilled and commented:
I hope you enjoy these words from my pal Crow
Thanks so much!
[…] idea of the musical glass came from the Crow whose poem you can read here. This is an attempt to tease out the idea in a different […]
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