. . . overlooked the rating
my fatal mistake
too old indeed for this cliché
a mere PG-13 as yet
an unknown tongue
a pre-natal giver
compensation for the self
a baneful embryo
beyond the reach of life and death
on the edge of the salty drops for evermore
. . .
no longer willing to carry
emotional baggage for two
that of the old and the new
the first with its end
. . .
sleeping naked tonight
stripped off of the fabric of my favorite clinging
or the so-called events of the past
the big wall clock across my bed
lightened now as it is disassembled
my cleansed head resting on the big hand
the small hand covering me ever so tenderly
come to me tonight oh sweet embrace
you desperately awaited rate of G
. . .
© hülya n. yılmaz, 4.21.2016
~ ~ ~
This poem came to me as an inspiration after a wonder-filled opportunity I had a while back to view – among many others – one stunning painting by the remarkable artist of international acclaim, Helene Ruiz. My heartfelt thanks to you, dear Helene. You will know to which one of your memorable painted art pieces I am referring.