How To Kiss A Ghost

[miyako73]

I'm not a cup or a glass
You can wash, dry, and fill
Or a soup bowl, a blue China,
You can polish with breath
Or smooth silvers forged
For excited hands to hold.

A haze comes into your room
To begin and end the midnight,
To cool down the warmth
Of high fever or of Summer
Underneath knitted nylons
Or white cottons unwashed.

My tight embrace is a dream
You can't forget or shrug off
Or a hidden stream you'll find
In your endless wandering
In the fields, in the forest
Of tulips and golden fireflies.

A coltish smoke in your bed
Isn't random or formless,
And it doesn't suffocate
The words you try to speak
In your sleep or solitude
When afternoons are omens.

I blow the moist of my lips
Whose kisses are whispers
On your neck, on your nape
Pulsating on my dewy mouth
That swallows the morning
And sips your sweaty cologne.

[Twota]

I like the last stanza the most, beautiful. :D

[dannYves]

I like the last stanza the most, beautiful. :D

I totally agree- beautiful words/imagery.

The one form of constructive criticism I have for you is the last couple lines don't fit with the rest of the piece , its almost a poem of "split personality ".

Even though, I like your style here and each sentence fit in with the next like a "braid".

I hope you understand my odd imageries lol, but anyhow , thanks for sharing a piece of your soul. I enjoyed reading it

[PrinceMyshkin]

Extraordinary! You do write as if you were a disembodied wraith but with vivid memories of what it was like, once, to be human.

[Mutatis-Mutandis]

Extraordinary! You do write as if you were a disembodied wraith but with vivid memories of what it was like, once, to be human.

That sounds kind of mean. :lol:

[billl]

Yes, this is a wonderful poem, everything feels right. I thought the final stanza was a wonderful image sequence, and then it communicated breathing, as well. Best thing about it is that it succeeds in living up to the rest of it.