The Memory of Forgetting

[miyako73]

When you stopped and told me
Sensuality sparkled on my nails
I painted red with silver wings,
That it shimmered on my palms
Concealing the scent of jasmine,
And swayed on my shy knuckles
In rhythm with stillness and silence,
Then danced on my soft fingertips
As I let go of my arms, my limbs,
I chopped off my hands for you.

[cogs]

wow, this is insane and gruesome. it's mesmerising how she is so specific about each part, yet after inspection, makes an illogical decision. what i made out of the title is the ghost limb she's feeling from what was there. or, perhaps she cannot remember how to be sane.
i'm not one who likes violence or blood, but i appreciate the shock value here.

[MorpheusSandman]

Oof! I had a flashback to poor Lavinia in Titus Andronicus when I hit that last line! As always, this is a very sensuous and vivid poem from you, miyako. I'm not quite sure I follow the prose-sense, but that's perfectly alright as I'm not one for insisting that poetry has to be solved like crossword puzzles.