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Stream of Unconsciousness

Unconscious, she swims
the yin-yang river,
moon climbing upstream:
she guides its polarity.
She is the leader,
they say,
of this body of water.
The silver of her teeth
become the scales of the fish;
Her swirling strands of hair
are the waves that form a
tenuous river, rippling muscle
underneath the wet blue paint.
Hands and nose and lips are cold;
her exterior begs for nourishment.
Warm, full of heat,
her soul thrives and sings.





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This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

sunshine said...
Jul. 14, 2010 at 8:22 am
I really like this. It's gorgeous.
 
dreamcatcher said...
Jun. 26, 2010 at 6:48 am
I love this type of poems, a lot of personification, a lot of metaphor. Both are used beautifully in this poem. Love it.
 
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