this is how it happens
static in a closed room
an electrical humI open my hand
sparks escape from my palm, crackling
like petting a cat in the darkyou reach out & touch my face
a cradle, a caress
it's warm there, where our skins meet
There is something tender and lyrical about this, with the static giving added “spark” in both the literal and figurative sense
I felt like there was a certain tension in the piece, created by the use of the electrical references.
Oh, I like this!
(dare I say–it sizzles!!)
I like that you put all three pieces together in one, sectional poem. They all have an ethereal quality, dreamlike, with, as Keith said, a certain tension throughout.
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