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Click heremy love for him dislodges, flies off into a tree
out of reach, clinging by sixteen claws
it gleams purple-red-green amongst the leaves
metallic, mylar-exciting, it shakes its spines
regards me with heart shaped eyes
I grab at it, popping up, down on tip toes
slippery, sharp as it is, I finally grip it
try to shove it back in my gut—
it no longer fits.
This is really good! Like Tess's comment, the last line is a punch to the gut. I might have made it its own 1 line stanza with some eye space between it and the rest of the poem for that microscopic sigh before the end of it.
High five.
your usual strong stuff but I agree with others tht it could be pared down more--there are certain phrases that feel unnecessary (like "mylar-exciting"). x
and even though i think this would be stronger with cutbacks on extra words, i love your original take on this age old sadness, its bright visuals ... its bald, sad statement.
....are clever the way you make the love a slightly sinister beast, that gives us a premonition that it's terminal. I'm not sure about line 6. The last line is a perfect punch to the gut. Well done.
Tess
one I write about a lot, however obliquely. I think your description of knowing it's over is not so bitter and maybe that why it makes the end line so sad and really brings the whole thing into focus. And it's a perfect ending imo because that is exactly what happens: it just isn't there anymore.
"shove it back in my gut" is great, too!