Bottle (Ekphrasis)

Artwork By Demizu Posuka, one of my favourite illustrators

TashInTheClouds
Jul 21, 2017 · 1 min read

Baby, forgive me.

I woke with the words on tired lips
said perhaps, in transit
from drugged sleep to waking;
with the hope for a soft hand
upon my shoulder.

I choked when I had hoped for speech
and my thoughts had eddied
into serpentine currents;
typhonic waterspouts
that sloshed and shushed myself,
a frothing nonsense that
stole the air from my mouth.

Help me, I think I tried to say.

But I was submerged
in a cold pickling jar.
There was no air, no sound,
no escape.

Baby, never mind.
It’s too late.
___________________________

Parallel: TashInTheClouds

Poetry on select themes from different perspectives.

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TashInTheClouds

Written by

A poet that enjoys the 'eureka' moments in writing, as well as the settings that inspire them - urban jungles and other wilderness alike.

Parallel: TashInTheClouds

Poetry on select themes from different perspectives.

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