The Black Tongue

 The blackest tongue

Licks the surface of her heart

Thick with dark inky spots

Gloats grace with baldness

The lit colors of your face slip through

The light, and the darkness licks the surface

Like a pen dripping in water

I remember stillness, and sitting by the water

Listening to the rocks falling into my soul

My soul- like a pool, body- like a wet rag

Being twisted and turned, tossed into the river

I am swallowed by the currents

The emotions of every day life

of licking my fingers and tossing my hair

 

Reviews

[Jae]

Like Orlando Furioso, the title drew me in as well. You have brilliant imagery and i like how you start talking about someone else, then you precede to reveal that you are the other someone. I greatly enjoyed this. Brava

~Rem

[R J Askew]

The title drew me to this one. You call up a wonderfully dark circumstance. I esp like the boulders rolling down and the notion of the black tongue licking a heart is quite an image. I don't know why but the last line is esp appealing. Not everything needs to be understood to enjoy a poem I sense.

[Lena M. P.]

Very good imagery. I became lost though because you start the poem off with "her" then proceed to "your" then finish with "I". The end leads one to believe that the bleakness and depression is personal. Other than that I ready did enjoy the poem. I especially liked the piece about the soul being like a pond with rocks falling into it.