It is in the shadows of a darkened room that I find the differences


Different Writers

Long, drawn-out sighs
Loop our lives together.
Moments of despair,
Thoughts of tired anguish,
Indifference,
Condensing the air between us.

It is in the shadows of a darkened room
That I find the differences
Between who you believe yourself to be,
And who I know I am.

You are the quill pen, green and gray ink,
Who scratches out harsh thoughts
Between your thighs and across my back.
Your nib places your words
Into flesh and composing sweat.

I smudge single syllables
In the language of loins
And sobbing mouths
Across my face for all to see,
Using fingertips
And my own blood.

It is only those repeated moments
Those fleeting seconds
That our far flung sentences find each other
We become the same writer
With different diction
Writing on a snow bank
Waiting for Spring.




Poetry by Reilley
Read 854 times
Written on 2009-03-02 at 16:49

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Kathy Lockhart
a beautiful sensual essence comes through your smooth flowing poetry. Lovely.
2009-03-13



Very sensual but hardly sexual. There seems a place where the writing is done, it sure is different for everyone. I like the shadowy crossovers. Could this be the grey that melds together the black and the white?
2009-03-13


Purple Phoenix
Wow, this is great, nice work!
2009-03-11



Wow! this is brilliant and I love it's conclusion. Waiting for spring too, Tai, sick of darkened rooms, dreaming of blue skies
2009-03-10