Misguided gestures ensnare his heart between any woman’s palms; this cradle can also be a casket of dried blood and unsaid words. His love finds a little perfect in every passing beat and longs for each to soften some of its hardened death. They don’t realize what invisible tattoos mark their skin: he looks away from their faces.


13 comments so far

  1. b on

    Yes, it could go either way. The key word here is “could”. If I were you teacher I would have your write this with a different ending and lay them side by side. (sorry, I know we all hate assignments!)

    Well done.


  2. ThomG on

    Just another fantastic snatch of words that create such visions. I bow to you.


  3. noahthegreat on

    Life doesn’t have mulitple endings, though. 😛

  4. Mark on

    A spiffy bouquet of words that are very telling.

  5. Dee on

    I like the line about invisible tattoos marking their skin. Interesting and maybe a little angry.

  6. Angel on

    Ok, is he just going from woman to woman? If not, I missed the whole point of the poem…lol

  7. stan on

    The voice of experience?

  8. Tumblewords on

    Your words are always so powerful – the images are vivid and vibrant and the layers deep.

  9. Just Someone on

    That was sad 😦 I read it twice and felt the power of your writing… you are such an amazing writer!

  10. Jeeves on

    Invisible tattoos!!!Wow. This post speaks to me. As usual brilliant.

  11. Bobbie on

    Very nice read, and deep.

  12. Michelle Johnson on

    They don’t realize what invisible tattoos mark their skin: Great line. Life’s ugliness or more to the point fooling around can find one looking at a certain kind of death. The markings of burden upon their faces. Well done.

  13. Daily Panic on

    the invisible tattoos got me too. So true the things unseen leave the deepest impression, that is not easily erased.

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