For this piece, I wanted to take an idea and a theme I’ve already written about quite a bit and start playing around with different literary and poetic devices, so this piece is more an experiment than anything. I fiddled around a little with more explicit repetition and variation in line length, which has always been something I’ve found difficult to do with poetry, but I feel like it lends such a sense of cleanness and simplicity to pieces, which always causes me to think more thematically when I read pieces written in that style.
Also, I’ve been finding that my fiction writing muscles are pretty stiff and out of practice, so I’ve been in a very stop-and-go place when it comes to the short stories I’ve been working on. Perhaps that’s the overly perfectionistic side of myself that’s always said that fiction was my strongest form of prose, but maybe it’s also an element of not allowing myself to be as free with writing fiction as I sometimes feel like I can be with other styles of writing, just because I still feel pretty amateurish with them. Either way, I’ll be working through some of those things and trying to coax something out of mind soon.
—
sometimes, love
Sometimes,
I find myself questioning what it is,
Love,
Because I’ve been told so many different things.
//
Sometimes,
They say it’s what you see in all the films,
Love,
It’s what two people feel for each other inside.
//
Other times,
It’s all wrapped up in religious fervor,
Love,
An isolated, solely spiritual construct.
//
But sometimes,
Existing as an interlocking of hands,
Love,
Bubbles up from a smile breached spring.
//
Sometimes,
Filling moments of deciphered silence,
Love,
Also fills the small of his back.
//
Other times,
Longing to simply be with another,
Love,
Asks him how forever might seem.
//
Sometimes,
I find myself questioning what it is,
Love,
Because I’ve been told so many times mine’s defective.
//
Another Anomaly Among Many 