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The Black Robes The Black Robes how you swish, as you move like a fish upstream, into my bath, your gills independent of your bodies, making breath out of the penumbra. you disclaim trespass but shit on my reef. I can smell you on the missives you leave on my mollusks. it is bad. ghosts wear white but here i am, haunted by 9 black moving curtains, who morph into fish, mouths puckering. one, eloquent, gives me jiggery pokery, though his poems don’t keep time, floating backward, heading towards his mind. |
This Poem was Critiqued By: DeniMari Z. On Date: 2015-08-05 15:45:49
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Your poetry is always like stepping in to a dream then out again.
Once again, you have mastered this piece - there is so much good in it - all of the pure poetic touches - but you add an additional tone every time you end a poem and that is what sets you apart in your style -
"Ghosts wear white" is so good of a contrast to those in black robes (& I perceive them to be Priests i.e. your chosen word "missives" -
Glad to read another poem written by you.
Deni