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Rohan P Jan 2019
Lamenting lines filling
   stillwater.

Find love in me, tarn.

Disrupt
    this still.

Ripple on the window.
Window as liminal zone;

Suspend imagery.

"Before our love got lost", you said
Rohan P Jan 2019
Believe—
how skies are
folding blankets: theirs
to mock the solidity of material form.

Believe—
what skies are
gesturing to bloodless hurricanes.

Believe—
why skies are

Yours.
I structurally designed this poem so the first line of each stanza is the shortest, and each successive line gets longer. The stanza lengths also decrease by one each time.
Rohan P Jan 2019
Poetry is not often a
Circle. More a snare.
Noose in my hands.
Chiasmus is thorough:
I am locked in.
"I thought how unpleasant it is to be locked out; and I thought how it is worse, perhaps, to be locked in".

'Circle' as a symbol for balanced aesthetic reflection, dispassionate observation—in Woolf's jargon, the state of the "incandescent" mind.

'Circle' as a symbol for everything that poetry can never be. Everything that I can never embody.

I'm sorry, Virginia. You're not as embittered as I am.

This is a feeble attempt at reconciliation.
Rohan P Jan 2019
maybe to hold
      darkly

that which loves you warm;
that which loves you warm and
     sundry.

Flesh to blade, as skin to lips.

love is a pressed handle—
love's pressed handle
        as reddish

florals.

As flush: what you
mean to hold me.
For Nori, a dog, a sister.

(I don't like to say "my dog" because that connotes a power hierarchy with necessary roles of ownership and possession. I'd rather conceive of her in egalitarian terms).

Anyway, she always finds me when I'm down; she knows when I'm not feeling right, and she's always there for me. She's the only love I ever need.
Rohan P Jan 2019
found her but couldn't hold
what wanted you to find, to love
what you are
i felt you when you were closing

when you were closer
closer her
Rohan P Jan 2019
mind the spiders, mending you.

mind them in flaming trees—dark
sky, ashes in their voided eyes.

mind them crawling in your skin;
mind their daggered
hearts, their twin eyes.

mind the spiders: let loose your love
in this lost, lithe lethargy.
Inspired by MACHINA/The Machines of God.
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