Poem on a Post-It [8]: After
This is a short poem that emerged in two halves, after a prompt in
’s SoulCircle (highly recommended!).An entirely different prompt, should you desire one this week is this:
Choose three words from the poem that jump from the page to you.
Begin writing, using each word as the beginning of a new sentence, and see what flows.
I’d love to read what appears for you, should you wish to share it.
Unfortunately there’s no audio this week, as I still have nothing resembling a working larynx. Hopefully normal service will be resumed soon!
Take care,
Louise x
Plain text version:
AFTER
Languid, his heavy arm nestles in curves
A sigh of contentment. Eyes, rest.
Fingers trace symphonies on still crimson skin
‘Til sleep turns their melody to muse.
Waking now: fire smoulders, quickening breath
Need pulsing, hearts beat amiss
Electricity fuelling this rhythm of life
This agony on a short fuse.