I sit atop the highest hill of a rollercoaster. You aren't sitting with me in my car in the middle, and each car in front and in back of me is empty. The wind pounds against my back, but doesn't push the cars forward. There is no way to get down. I can't hear the screams of excitement and thrill below me. My fist keeps a steady, unrelenting grip on a carnation. I don't know if this is the end of the ride or the beginning.
I know you would roll your eyes at this. You were never very fond of poetry. You dismissed it as over-emotional tripe, words that were only good for certain occasions. Certain people. My darling, you are more certain than anything I know. I have too many words for you.
YOU ARE READING
Aphrodite
Poetry"There's a blaze of light in every word, it doesn't matter which you heard: the holy or the broken, 'Hallelujah.'"- Leonard Cohen The poems in this series center on two characters: I, the speaker, and You, the speaker's subject. I is not a specific...
