I can't stop thinking about my little sister, playing, at the beach
And all the little happinesses she saves for when I'm not looking
And I am always at the very least, looking, if not imploring,
recoiling, rolling my eyes or welling up with tears
I leave for Munich this morning
And she barely mumbles a goodbye through her pillow's muffle
Her head sinks deep, shrinking from me and a face that would swallow her
in feigned placidity when she can plainly see (without looking) the kind words
forced, washing over, hiding the shallowness of my sympathy,
drawing in the depths
drawing in the depths
of my fatigue.
And although eyes closed, she is looking at nothing
but the warm tempting black of her own lapping sleep,
one eye buoys over the smooth blue pillowcase and sheets
but the warm tempting black of her own lapping sleep,
one eye buoys over the smooth blue pillowcase and sheets
as if to say that there is love below these waves
And I can't stop thinking about my little sister playing at the beach,
now an intrepid cliff diver peeking over the edge, wondering if rocks await
in the pools beneath.
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Very evocative. I love this
Very evocative. I love the image of a cliff diver peeking over the edge. Great work.
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The subtle brilliance of
The subtle brilliance of referencing the waves within the pillow case, as well as the theme of the ocean that runs throughout the poem wonderfully ties the imagery together. I especially love the dynamic of depth and shallows that you evoke between yourself and your sister, it really works to personify yourselves and personalities through bringing to mind bodies of water.
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