These Lines
My Friday night
Is dew under me,
Darkness around me.
The cruel wind blows,
Cuts ribbons in my skin
Like how your breath once
Caressed me.
The dew must have
Seeped through my skin,
Travelled up my veins,
And welled in my eyes.
For now it carves lines
Down my face.
You knew these lines so well.
Clouds break and
The moon is forced out.
Its light shines down.
I turn towards it and it
Warms my ribboned skin,
Dries my wet cheeks.
We see the same one.
Feel the same one.
That’s something, I guess.
My Friday night
Is over, now.
I wonder how yours went.
Posted May 30, 2017, 9:33 PM UTC
I like a lot of the imagery in this poem. Particularly the second stanza - the idea of the dew travelling through you and becoming tears is very interesting. The poem flows pretty nicely and I can feel the emotion of it all the way through.
I feel as though the first couple stanzas contain really good imagery that feels like its leading to something bigger, but the moon image doesn't quite fulfill that expectation (though I do like the addition of "That's something, I guess"). I'm also not entirely sure what is meant by the wind cutting ribbons in your skin, but I think if you clarified this in some way it could be a nice image.
Overall, I really enjoy the authentic and emotional feel of this poem, and I find some of the images to be powerful.