(image courtesy of Magpie Tales)
I planned the shot like a billiard run
Where a flash of white finds each side.
We thought it just another angle.
Then the shards of myself were struck
By light itself, unfelt, into the silver.
In a small bathroom, I became shards
Sealing myself in without privacy
As we do now, in bathrooms or at table;
Lives bright as curated toy shelves.
I am easy to see, skim, select, apprehend,
Banked through random links to you.
I like the way you used the imagery of a billiard table in your poem Chrissa. Brilliant!
ReplyDeleteThanks! It was fun to write.
DeleteI like the last 2 lines. Love your take on this.
ReplyDeleteThose took the longest; still fiddling with them whenever I read it. :)
Delete"The shards of myself." Powerful...
ReplyDeleteI like how random links relates to the pic...
ReplyDeleteMagic happened in that room ....this is so clever
ReplyDelete