The houses and my face:
Pink blotched cheeks, swollen
wood of door frames in the cold,
locking the weather in or out.
The fogged heat of breath
smothered in a scarf, the intimate
taste of in and out. The frosted
dell in silence, a sleeping cello
whose strings hang loose like wisps
of hair lost from their ponytail.
The cellist only knows lullabies, anyway,
off from school and the dishwashing.
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3 comments:
i like how you are combining music and words. it reminds me of my thesis right now. music and visuals. music to me is one of the most powerful things in the world ya know? it gives me my power to create. but it is even more powerful when it is one or forever. like the om the eternal sound that is forever resonating in the universe....
i have no idea what i was saying. yo. how is the tea shop. how is the littlest kodish doing?
yeahh i have a hard time integrating music into my writing. its hard to hear something and then be like "how can i describe that?" and then what is the point in using one art to talk about another? why not just listen to music?
the tea shop is nice and warm, due to jessica's new heater. im heading there in a minute, happily leaving the Rutgers campus for the last time! would you like us to send you some teas? christmas cookies? we have so many extra christmas cookies.
i would love for you to send me some christmas cookies and tea.
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