I must say at times
My laughter panics
It has eyes, and nails
Real, like ghosts
Like bodies waiting to be touched
I must say what they don’t say
While living at the center of a wound still fresh
Your writing inspires me
Inside of this space
Outside of me
Words exploding namelessly
Admiring a woman I hardly know
But know inside my chest
I guess that’s what poetry is supposed to do. I don’t want to be ‘known’ at all outside my writing – there doesn’t seem to be any point in being an artist and having people interested in my life and personality as well, if you see what I mean.
I love that you have done this, Mari. I am touched and honoured.
I am blown away by your writings kvennarad – found through Mari – you have touched me deeply by your words – a poet par excellence and a master of heart – I follow you humbly…
Wonderful follow, John.
Continuity to the spirit = Marie
I DO – Completely understood.
Most welcome, you….
I always love your play on words, always so very refreshing! Nicely done Mari!
Thank you Mr Wendell.
Without a doubt, Mari, without a doubt.
: )
Spoken with flair! Great poem!