It's the words
beneath the words
that frighten me.
Scattered and hidden
in the back of my mind,
on scraps of paper,
(in the silences) .
Bold as a burp
I sometimes dropp them carelessly,
in midsentences, in startled
gaps of mundane conversation.
I lose them to the hungry air,
my real portrait, untouched
glossy face.
(Written for my friend - Carole Clark)
This has a subtle kick. The subconscious is a difficult beast to keep in check. Leakage occurs! Great theme briely but very well covered.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Cheryl, Yes, you wrote that for your friend, but, does it not also caution you? B.V.A.