I Called Z Passably Pretty

poem


And she was unhappy about it.

I am either pretty, or beautiful, your choice.

But you’ve always called me beautiful,

And so, in the sanctity of us,

I was always beautiful.  What’s changed?

Or are you fucking with me, playing,

Always playing, but with an edge, sometimes

Too sharp.  Read your poems

To me, mine to you.  Think of us in a dark

Room, me slowly unbuttoning my shirt,

You’re on fire, that should do it.

0 0 votes
Rate This Writing
Subscribe
Notify of
3 Comments
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
franciman

Appearing passably shallow, but actually very deep. There’s a lot to ponder…
I spent time at the end, in contemplation of the facile answer.
does that make sense?
cheers,
Jim

Last edited 2 years ago by franciman
stormwolf

Phew! I’ve come over all queer (or are we allowed to say that now? )
Yes, there is a sort of dual going on. Words bandied about as double edged swords, passive aggression… then the last lines that amply demonstrate the white hot heat that was.

Alison x

Dodgem

I found reading it aloud gave me the sense of the interchange in the poem; and it is word fencing, or is that kindling? Before the ignition? A very sassy poem – simply good Swep.
Dodge.