Parched

by Melissa   Jul 18, 2012


The sun's rays are panting
like dry tongues,
and I've become nothing more than cracked clay
salivating for the humidity
of warm hands to mold me
in the shape of a big-bellied pond

I want to drink love like water,
slosh it about in the belly of my soul,
feel its roots sprout
and cling to the muddy soil
like newborn fingers
that have found a mother to hold

I want to swallow
and be swallowed
quite suddenly, simultaneously
as if sweaty palms and parted lips
were enough to quench
even the thirstiest of tongues

3


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Latest Comments

  • 12 years ago

    by Maple Tree

    I was swept away by this elegant and quite touching piece.. The yearning for a love is what I took from this piece.

    The author created a whirl wind of beautiful word display, and I was left speechless at the end.

    Her creative usage of the words was very captivating:

    "I want to drink love like water,
    slosh it about in the belly of my soul,"

    ^^ Unique and Beautiful....

    Well done Melissa

  • 12 years ago

    by nouriguess

    Double

  • 12 years ago

    by nouriguess

    Melly,

    You make art of the most guileless things around us. You hew out ordinary materials, knead their solid statures with your emotions, scent them with a profound metaphor, create new dimensions in them and you bring them to life, give them sensations...and all of a sudden we have a poetic, sentimental masterpiece. Sigh. I really feel speechless here. I feel these few lines cured me somehow, I haven't written anything in ages and I'm inspired now. I have at the moment this urge to pen down something even if it turns out too abstract to be submitted. But I want to write, so thank you.

    I've always seen the sun rays in poetry shining, smiling, sewing hairs in ecstasy and dressing the earth with their yellows. But never have I read a line where they panted or stretched their hands for water and rain. You made summer look sad, sadder than I could ever anticipate. With you being the dried clay on the ground, coveting the moisture of a deep, wintry pond...you're feeling underestimated and abandoned. And deprived. And helpless. I love the image of you clinging to soil and the newborn simile. It felt as though you mixed innocence with passion on purpose. You wanted contrasts in there, somewhere, somehow. A mother is meant to be tender, protective and the connection you made was cleverly meaningful.

    The ending wrapped these thoughts with even more melancholy; you want to be drenched and to drench what's around you, in return, but all you have now is sweaty palms and thirsty lips. All you have now is desert and lovelorn-ness, and this isn't a word, no. I love the way you brought tongues again in the closing line, it brings me back to the sun rays bit. You're darn smart.

    This is too beautiful to be that short. I'm desperate to read more.

  • 12 years ago

    by Yakari Gabriel

    You're some kind of poetic goddess mense

  • 12 years ago

    by Lostlove1

    Good Lord Melissa. This is awesome and most likely a winner I'd bet. The imagery is beyond fantastic!! I hope you know when you write, we learn! This is the good stuff.
    Lostlove