When he stood, in the peace of post-coital stillness, and said, 'I want to destroy you,' she waged a battle for her life for the next 15 years.
No-one emerged unscathed.
She rose, a soot-blackened woman, from the fine layers of silted taupe ashes, with scorched feet, able to see in all directions.
Sheath of feeling. Words groping to touch air.
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-oh, writing process- on Metaphor
in my apartment on a dance-the-poetry-within-you day I never know what is going to emerge that day, ever, always a surprise a rough draf...
So much power condensed into these few lines! Incredibly visceral: "soot-blackened," "scorched feet" -- and the ending has a epic quality to it. Standing tall. Brava.
ReplyDeleteoh my. yes. something perfectly visceral, and yet fully imagined.
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