There's not much to say about this poem really, other than what it is. I'm not too happy with it yet, but I like the idea of individuals as secrets, so you can expect to see other iterations of this idea, along with reworkings of this poem, because I'd definitely like to edit this. So I won't belabor anything by rambling on and on. Please leave comments if you enjoy it or hate it, I like hearing bad news (well, I don't, but I need to hear bad news, so bring it on!). Thanks for reading!
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Secret Bodies
by Matthew Stalbaum
we are shared as a secret
in which not all is told
except just enough
to light the edges
of our skin despite
a persistant darkness
that stretches its shadows
in long, smoky tendrils
that never soak through
the solidity of skin.
i cannot lift them but
they are as visible breath
which does nothing to hide
your silent scars or my
untold bruises
This poem is beautiful because (to me), it's like the first stanza--"not all is told except just enough"...and somehow, that's everything. Very well written, Pazzo. :)
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