poetry critical

online poetry workshop

Heaven lingers between silk sheets

silent perspiration beads on the soft curves
tangled in silk the machine self-destructs
and echoes, repeating...it fell apart
though dusty, worn through threadbare shirts
rising and falling in mellow waves
cool breath, deep and steady- closer than mirrors
stars hover and kiss in their natural attraction
desperately flailing to trade superpowers
their fluidity dynamic and intertwined
pale smoke rises light and swift
as the beating fades and full circle
back to dust a memory lingers
in this room you can't touch the floor
the electric buzz evaporates and drained
equilibrium in the red collapses on itself
ripping away all that came before
the sweetness dissolved and stirred in the mix
down smooth with a twinge of bitterness
the room lies naked, empty except for a stain

3 Apr 08

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: )
 — fractalcore

This needs punctuation.  Consider it silk stockings for the poem, necessary for the presentation, even though we will not notice them once the action begins.

Too much word without a breathing point.  
 — Isabelle5