This morning is tinted with ghost-light

Ripe honeydew cubes glisten on the cutting board.

I cover the walls with pages from Vogue:

                        lips and ribs and skin.

I have two wrists, one navel and three voices.

 

Rub honey on my lips.  My skin

cracks like a cocoon;

                        a skeleton walks out and sunlight passes through.

Reviews

[Clockwork]

I think the style of this piece has a bit in common with Ocean Vuong's poem "On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous." At least in the way your images link together to drive the heart of the piece.

I don't think the speaker is numb. I think she is seeking a method for transcendence, the creation of a recipe that will help her emerge from herself. I believe that is what the pages of Vogue represent in the second line.

Your last three lines read like a ritual. The action of rubbing honey on her lips seems like a small ceremony, which causes her to morph into something entirely new.

[eglantine]

Thank you! :) I appreciate the read and constructive review.

[Clockwork]

You're welcome. I am very glad to read your work again :-)

[Coyote Poetry]

I love how you write. Honest and direct words leave the reader with something to think about.
"lips and ribs and skin.
I have two wrists, one navel and three voices."
You made the words come alive and have purpose. Above lines. Outstanding. Thank you for sharing the outstanding poetry.
Coyote

[eglantine]

aw thank you! :)

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome.

[K. Louis]

I see a contrast between light colors and this feeling of being hollowed out...almost transparent...numb; this is delicate and feminine as much as it is deep and dark...a good balance that makes for some great poetry. nice