anna-houghton - Hello Poetry

It had been the longest summer of longing in my not so long life I had imagined how you would feel from our ever so innocent beginnings, I was in his car the late august air brushing stray hairs from behind my ear softly on to my cheeks the air like slow warm breaths with undertones of the promised september chill. In the space of forty five minutes I had counted fifteen red cars in the wing mirror. everything in this long wednesday seemed as futile as the war poems in the anthology with the sunset on the cover similarly filtered and dissected to try and extrapolate some kind of meaningless meaning to meaningly satisfy the means which I know full well I do not mean.

0

Apr 13, 2017

Apr 13, 2017 at 7:51 PM UTC

mean median mode

It had been the longest summer of longing in my not so long life I had imagined how you would feel from our ever so innocent beginnings, I was in his car the late august air brushing stray hairs from behind my ear softly on to my cheeks the air like slow warm breaths with undertones of the promised september chill. In the space of forty five minutes I had counted fifteen red cars in the wing mirror. everything in this long wednesday seemed as futile as the war poems in the anthology with the sunset on the cover similarly filtered and dissected to try and extrapolate some kind of meaningless meaning to meaningly satisfy the means which I know full well I do not mean.

1

spit on molars It was something my gran had said and had always stuck with me how she didn't care for love and made it very clear I just think she never knew it a frail woman whose dog preference was large in order to exert authority over an entity more powerful than her own she told me of how she would push any man out of her bed never sleeping a night in arms yet here I am clutching your body tight to mine in a hope we may morph together like plastercine the bed but a plinth for us to lie as people look upon our final form and as you step onto the train from the platform our limbs form strings as we are dismembered like spit on molars

0

Apr 13, 2017

Apr 13, 2017 at 7:49 PM UTC

spit on molars

spit on molars It was something my gran had said and had always stuck with me how she didn't care for love and made it very clear I just think she never knew it a frail woman whose dog preference was large in order to exert authority over an entity more powerful than her own she told me of how she would push any man out of her bed never sleeping a night in arms yet here I am clutching your body tight to mine in a hope we may morph together like plastercine the bed but a plinth for us to lie as people look upon our final form and as you step onto the train from the platform our limbs form strings as we are dismembered like spit on molars

27

you step out first towelling and looking back at me as I still stand in the poor excuse for a shower our first in this old wooden framed building seemingly every minute spent under the lukewarm water contributing to to its imminent collapse I so wish it was only us ever before and ever after I hope your short memory only serves to remember exclusively my hands my touch this love ours and only We step outside it is always mid to late afternoon but never quiet being together solves most everything when you take it away do it slow make it as if you were dying in your sleep instead of your life you have this picture of our bodies spilled over one another your leg camel coloured and mine magnolia entwined until the object created cannot be defined nor personified I never thought it before now it lingers heavy like a summer smog disallowing me from remembering who I am I want to become acutely aware of these days which we let pass all the while knowing they are golden it is the knowing and simultaneously letting them deteriorate which leaves me in a strange limbo wanting to encapsulate something unbeknownst even to myself looking into your eyes framed with spider lashes I want to hold and hold and hold its like I cant be close enough you are never close enough it cant be voiced shown mimicked performed described it is nothing but felt and that is all it can be

0

Apr 13, 2017

Apr 13, 2017 at 7:49 PM UTC

felt

you step out first towelling and looking back at me as I still stand in the poor excuse for a shower our first in this old wooden framed building seemingly every minute spent under the lukewarm water contributing to to its imminent collapse I so wish it was only us ever before and ever after I hope your short memory only serves to remember exclusively my hands my touch this love ours and only We step outside it is always mid to late afternoon but never quiet being together solves most everything when you take it away do it slow make it as if you were dying in your sleep instead of your life you have this picture of our bodies spilled over one another your leg camel coloured and mine magnolia entwined until the object created cannot be defined nor personified I never thought it before now it lingers heavy like a summer smog disallowing me from remembering who I am I want to become acutely aware of these days which we let pass all the while knowing they are golden it is the knowing and simultaneously letting them deteriorate which leaves me in a strange limbo wanting to encapsulate something unbeknownst even to myself looking into your eyes framed with spider lashes I want to hold and hold and hold its like I cant be close enough you are never close enough it cant be voiced shown mimicked performed described it is nothing but felt and that is all it can be

62