literature

Mouse-child

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AzizrianDaoXrak's avatar
Published:
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Literature Text

I am
delicate.

I should be a sprite
that would go whirling
across the air
with unbuttoned coat.

But thighs and breasts
give me a name
that is not mine.

I must walk as a mouse,
the way I was taught
in ballet class.
I must not be an elephant.

But, Oh! to be wrinkled and gray!
To walk like a pendulum,
great legs swinging!

I am tenuous, tentative -
a child told
she is too old now,
she can't say what she likes
anymore.
That she must take care
to keep her knees smooth
and unskinned
from tree-climbing.
GAH! I told myself I wasn't going to post every single one of my 100 poem project pieces to DA. But I found I liked this one too much NOT to share it with you all :) I actually am quite pleased with some fairly everyday imagery

So, I'm worried some of the imagery here is a little too...cryptic. But for now I can't seem to find a way to say what I mean without explaining too much. Doing so is DIRECTLY contrary to the immortal words of Mark Twain.

And we must avoid that at all costs, mustn't we?

critique:
obviously: what do you think of the imagery?
does it flow well? do I switch back and forth between the "bold" and the "timid" stanzas too quickly?
Comments11
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RunningBear5858's avatar
I really like this a lot, your imagery's pretty interesting. :)