So far, my name has been left off
the inflection of your question
as though it were a ticking meter,
inescapable and kept to the last second;
your fingers were like shifting clock hands
your eyes opaque bottle tops on a shaken drink
your words, a tide approaching slightly then retreating
and so the forming of your mouth over the vowels
of my name was an unexpected sunshine,
a night parrot landing on my hand;
you are relieved of your timidity, and I
of my ordinariness in your mind:
I have now been solidified in it;
acknowledged and alive
in your world;
I am named
40.0: INTERLOCUTOR
Guest poetry editor: Libby HartRelease date: 1 November 2012
Index of poems
Featured artists: Melanie Scaife and James Bonnici
stunning, amanda!
Yes, this is a brilliant piece of writing, I agree.
Thanks for your kind words, Stuart & Justin…glad you enjoyed it!
Thank you for the lovely poem. I especially liked “your fingers were like shifting clock hands”.