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The Skull and the Girl

Her thin white legs are sweet. She crouches down, takes a small brush, sweeps dirt off my partly exposed skull. I am extinct, the way some pachyderms are while others are not. Ice fields turn to desert. Wind-straws evolve into sun hats. An archaeologist discovers. I like her hands, they cup and measure, they feel the weight of dispersed things. The flesh over her knees gentles the earth. She spreads herself – an eclipse of her. She tugs my skull from the earth, uncouples my emptiness. An era passes an age. I am a footprint in an Alzheimer’s ward, yet I recall her fingers how once they brought sight to my eye-sockets, how she placed me under the green-vine of her life, cared for my hollowness, planted the scent of her youth in it. Questions like: who-what-where, and how do not arise.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 9/22/2019 2:28:00 PM
Somehow this poem reminded of "Dark matter." Hollowness, emptiness is like sometimes like the darkest black hole, nothing to give, nothing to gain. Like a both way dilemma. In this situation, we as muslim rely on our supernatural power and say "In sha Allah (God willing). Do not judge with a prejudiced mind. Just delete it if you find it otherwise.
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Eric Ashford
Date: 9/22/2019 2:33:00 PM
Well gosh Tamanna, that is certainly one way to look at it. It is set in a timeless zone between life and life, so you might have a point here. Thanks.
Date: 9/22/2019 11:11:00 AM
Taken by surprise, happily so! An unusual angle poetically described. Almost has a an art house movie quality, in the way you have "directed" the imagery. Intriguing poem , Eric- so glad I found it today! :-)
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Eric Ashford
Date: 9/22/2019 12:26:00 PM
Thank you Aqua, it's 'off the wall' but seems to strike a chord with some readers. I am glad I found your poetry also. Obliged to you.

Book: Reflection on the Important Things