I rub my spine counting dots while I wait for coffee waists are high this year like the flood waters brimming over and also holding in I watch fashion and weather intertwine in argument or love aren’t we all glad for the blinding sun sanded back, varnished light the sheer grain the perfect skin of it a cheek unmasked this morning I’m steering from the edges through the Saturday crowd their tripping feet heels clicking like a loss of cartilage and in the high gloss floor we’re all upside down counting dots I rub my spine
Written for Linda G Hill’s SoCS prompt “trip” Saturday, March 12 2022
The spine dots are brilliant. You’ve captured the slip of seasons and age and leave us counting our own vertebrae. Wonderful worms! 😃
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Thanks K!
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That imagery! Along with the spine dots, I was instantly fascinated with the “heels clicking like a loss of cartilage.” So startling and precise! I think that describes your writing for me: “startling and precise.” And amazing and wonderful and thought-provoking. (I could go on all day!) I so look forward to your posts and I’m never disappointed. 🙂
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Thank you, Mike! You are very kind, indeed! Thank you!
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Wonderful imagery. You leave me feeling like I imagine an acid trip would leave me.🙂
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Lol. Excellent. I should make excellent money out of that kind of poetry.
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Cheaper than drugs, less harmful but equally addictive!
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