Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

The Fujiwhara Effect

At twelve you were already beautiful,
lightning storm striking the playground,
girls scattering in your path, boys burnt
where they stood. At thirty you were
hurricane, your body a force I fell
under, your voice one note from thunder,
every morning I pressed the phone closer
trying to ride the warm wave of your
 
tongue. I collected your words like fetishes,
wore them under my clothes, envied your
dresses, schemed to part the robe
that sheathed you, borrowed your
boots to rise to your height. You told me
I was as close to black as a white girl
could get, being trash from the projects.
When I dwelt in the shelter
 
of your eyes all moments were promise.
We’d bring poetry to the projects, give women
ammunition, protect neglected children,
influence policy, language. Orbiting your
vortex I lost my own impetus, laboured
for your amusement, stood perpetually
poised to destroy any man trying to divide
 
us. I weathered your rages, assessed the
wreckage, repaired the debris left behind us,
coveted your praise as it diminished. I weakened
into lesser depression while you accelerated;
depleted by your tenacious grace,
absorbed, I dissipated.
 
 
Roxanna BennettRoxanna Bennett is a Canadian writer/artist-educator. Her first book of poetry ‘The Uncertainty Principle’ is forthcoming in June 2014 from Tightrope Books. Her personal blog is here (opens in a new window).
 
 

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Categories: LGBTQ+, Poetry, Themed

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2 replies

  1. Reblogged this on Choose Your Own Adventure and commented:
    Poem I wrote, thank you so much to melancholyhyperbole for running it.

  2. Lovely poem, vibrant with beautiful imagery and simili’s. these lines are absolutely amazing, “I pressed the phone closer trying to ride the warm wave of your tongue. I collected your words like fetishes”

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