Indigo
We
are driving so fast that the coast we are sailing past, previously glittering
and entrancing, is now only a series of lines: pink stacked on orange stacked
on blue stacked on brown. The sun is setting and you are driving, one hand on
the wheel and the other inching towards where mine lies in the space between
us. Your finger brushes mine, so lightly that it feels like a blink, and then
again, so softly that it makes me think of my father’s fingers flitting across
my face the last time he touched me. I look out the window, at the lines of
all-consuming blue, the place where the ocean kisses the sky and I think of
what it was about this blue that my father loved so much he swallowed it whole,
painted his body with it, inside and out. I am still looking away from you, but
I remember the color of your eyes and suddenly I realize that now your fingers
are overlapping mine, an awkward jigsaw puzzle forced together haphazardly by a
four-year-old, not realizing or not caring that the picture doesn’t make sense,
just happy to be done. I do not move my hand but I do not turn to face you
either; instead, I keep watching as stars fade into focus.
Huneeya, this is a beautifully written, mysterious poem. The initiating image (the sky as it changes) parallels the change from father to companion in the car. The line about swallowing the blue and painting the body is startling. An image of exuberance and joy? I would change "do not" to "don't" in the last line. Maybe in both cases in that sentence? This is very well done. I will have more thoughts when I talk to you.
ReplyDeleteTo me, the line about "swallowing the blue" and painting the inside and outside of the father's body with it made me think immediately of drowning, which could make sense given the nostalgia and contemplation the speaker has about the ocean-sky line.
DeleteHuneeya, this is a beautifully written, mysterious poem. The initiating image (the sky as it changes) parallels the change from father to companion in the car. The line about swallowing the blue and painting the body is startling. An image of exuberance and joy? I would change "do not" to "don't" in the last line. Maybe in both cases in that sentence? This is very well done. I will have more thoughts when I talk to you.
ReplyDeleteI really love the imagery you use in this prose-poem (?), Huneeya. Especially, the swallowing blue line that has already been mentioned. I also appreciate what feels almost like a volta in the last line of the piece, where the speaker decides to "keep watching as stars fade into focus" (awesome use of paradox there, btw). I get the sense that an unexpected choice was made in that last section of the poem; to me, it changed the meaning of the entire piece.
ReplyDelete"pink stacked on orange stacked on blue stacked on brown"
ReplyDeleteI completely love this image. It took me a minute to visualize, but - like the rest of this poem - it feels unique, vibrant, and sensory.