a muddled love story

Photo by Gabriele Stravinskaite on Unsplash

I’m sorry I didn’t notice you,
feet planted along the edge of somewhere,
falling quietly in love
with a falsely constructed pretense of
someone else’s dreams.

If I would have felt you
being swept away by this version
of who you thought I was,
I would have opened my mouth
and poured all my truths into your
cupped hands and open heart.

Maybe then,
we would have had a chance.

Maybe then,
we would have fell together
into a love that could have held me whole,
instead of one that grew from a distorted image
I was never meant to be.

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a flamenca poem

Photo by Maria Lupan on Unsplash

I pluck them one by one
each wildling on the edge
before they wither
into an endless night,
fresh buds will line the ledge.

This new form of poetry that I am exploring this week is called a flamenca poem. It has five lines, each containing 6 syllables, except for the 3rd line which has only 5. The last rule is that lines 2 and 5 assonate. It was more difficult than I expected, but extremely fun to play with!

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Gina Kimmel

Capturing the beauty of the ordinary through words and poetry. Noticer of everyday magic and devotion. Shifting forms whenever the mood arises.