...or silverware love note
If love were a spoon I would scoop you up
consuming you with satisfaction, with relish
the way a small child eats an ice cream cone
covered sticky in its remnants;
you would become me through diffusion,
through osmosis and our proximity
so we would be one until the end of time
or at least until our composite parts degrade.
Perhaps love is no spoon, but rather a fork
so instead of scooping and slurping and smiles
I pierce you, I gnaw and bare teeth violently
and no less passionately so that our eventual union
writ now by chewing grinding and gnashing
occurs not so wholly but fractured
some pieces retaining their integral forms.
If love were a knife we would stay two
but ribboned and bloodied from our efforts,
wearied by the strained grasp upon its handle
its latent lust for destruction and barbarity,
its propensity for bloodletting and division;
our inherent challenges unmet
we would fade in amnesiac obscurity
interred to the silverware drawer
after a preliminary run through the dishwasher.
Author notes
Reprisal/revision/reworking/re-re-re-repeat.
Comments
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truth. what more is to be said. another great write. great insight
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Hey Nienna,
Have I read this before?
Nonetheless, i enjoyed the use of silverware as a metaphor for love/relationships. The morbid part of me, enjoyed the change in the tone of the poem, as the silver ware changes from spoon to knife. I liked the whole of it, though i found the ending of the last stanza quite off from the other two. The other two sort of concluded on the note of what happens to the people involved:
"Composite parts degrade" and "some pieces retaining their integral form"; the last stanza however ends with "preliminary run through the dishwasher." I just felt it wasn't an apt ending. But that's my opinion.
As always i enjoy your eye for detail.
-iphios -
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You certainly have. It's a reworking. I'm trying to edit anything I think can stand on its own to submit for publication. I'm expecting quite a bashing, but at least it gets it out there.
I have had problems with this ending for about a year now. GRrrrrr. I'm glad to hear your honesty, though, and I'll give it a look. Damn knives and their ambiguity.
Nienna
PS I added a stanza to "Appalachia." It's really rough, but if the idea works I can run with it, hopefully.
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I am more than awed, once again. Your imagery and your words and how you shape them are so powerful. I like the fork stanza the best. I also love the comparison with the child and the ice cream.
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