Saturday, October 08, 2005

the ninth

she stands barebreasted
in the rain
with her softness
and infirmities
to the wetness
carressing her intimately
with tiny fingers
and broken nails

the night
black and beckoning
on the temples of her luminance
the shoulders of her longing
the curves of all
that is woman inside her

she dances with eight muses
bending to the silence
and submitting
to voiceless agony
as a stream of raindrops
cover her in anonymity
forming puddles of doubt
beneath her feet

as she turns
arching her back
throwing her head
flailing wide her arms
the rust sets in


uNdeRneAth said...

wow...ur such a cool girl. ^_^ astig ka talaga kahit kelan. ^_^ visit my blog. ^_^

blue rogue said...

i seem to have seen her somewhere. washing her hair and utterly oblivious to her own nakedness as if madness had also set in along with the rust.

incomplete, like the ninth, but perfect still.

Blueprincesa said...

I like the ambivalence you convey in this poem

Hunter said...

i love this. you're getting better and better, cargwaps. keep it up!

cargwaps said...

underneath, thank you! yup yup yup! i definitely visit your blog.^__^

blue rogue, you're right. we've all seen her. and perhaps, we all have a part of her...

blueprincesa, thank you!i love having you comment on my blog. ^___^

hunter, your generous comment made me smile. thank you! it's truly an honor that you think so.