Sunspots
the weight in your bones
Sunspots
emerald green, purple, blue
sun—
is it me,
or is it
you?
I always hold the stare
just one moment
too long.
Peach hanging
from the tree
the sun
gets it ready—
like me,
bruising easily
ready before
you think—
before
you can see.
Your gaze
across the street
watching the white lines
your feet—
never
me.
I should pull away
but I won’t
like I want you to know
how I notice
it all—
the void
the aching
the weight in your bones.
Sunspot across my vision
you dance delicate
block anything else
interesting
you make me watch you—
I didn’t mean to.
The glow catches
my attention
my heart got distracted—
wasn’t truly in it.
Shake it away
squeeze it tight
erase the intrusion
give back my sight.
Thanks for being here <3
Did you know…
if you decide to become a paid subscriber,
I will mail you a postcard size art print
with a poem or message handwritten on the back.
~~~
Additionally, all of my art is available for purchase.
The original art featured with this poem is $150, shipped free within the US (outside US shipping costs vary). A color copy on nice paper is $30.
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“I always hold the stare / just one moment / too long.” There it is.
I love the peach — “bruising easily / ready before / you think.” An image carrying vulnerability, desire... and danger.
Then the sunspot becomes the person: something beautiful you cannot stop seeing, even when you bloody want your sight back.
Tender! Restless! Aching! I'M SUBSCRIBING!
I write at The Reflective State, meandering through reflection, humour, travel, history and fiction. If curiosity brings you my way, I'd genuinely love to know what you think.
Great work