Sunday, January 3, 2010

The Shape of a Smile

Looking Down, 2009

The bite,
it captured him.
I know it’s the truth.

It wasn’t your lipstick,
but your deep bottomless blue.

You floated above
and rested on shoulders,
like fog.

You dove down beneath,
twisting their heels,
until you felt their pain.

And you stood outside
in the sleet
and the sorrow,
with bare arms.

Your teeth grit tightly--
in the shape
of a smile.


  1. I like how the shape of a smile need not be a smile, a bleak geometry of its own.

  2. Beautiful post. The drops on the window are so textured...

  3. the image and words go so so nicely together.... in the sleet, and the sorrow, with bare arms... lovely

    happy new year!

  4. Thank you! I've been thinking of Sylvia Plath during the writing of my After the Sour Lemon Moon poems. I've always been so gripped by her talent and saddened by the fact that her life ended so early. She's one of the few authors I return to again and again.