[poem] Collecting Dreams

[kaberett]

Write your dreams upon me.
Carve them bone-deep, filigree
and fretwork of my flesh:
I'll bear your weight. I'll bear
the wait. Here, hear
as my heart beats. For all that's wrong,
for all I cannot do, this,
at least, is steady, sure.
You're not the first. I am a beast
of burden. I am strong.
Beloved, if you'd only dare to ask
you'll find me more than able for this task.

Comments

[kaberett]

idek, yo.

I think it's a collision of:

• recessional using the phrase "written in bone"
  
• my Feelings about my status as an organ donor
  
• reminding myself of my own strength
  
• the-self-as-monster

... etc.

[jelazakazone]

I also think this is a a very popular romanticized version of love. I think you've articulated it eloquently here.

Have you asked your circle what love looks like to them? What does it feel like?

[kaberett]

Hmm. Interestingly I think I was conceptualising myself as a repository or storehouse or record, rather than as something to be moulded into the shape of aforementioned...

[redsixwing]

"for all I cannot do, this,"

I have reread the poem with this line in at least three different stresses, and it changes every time. <3

I like the contrast between filigree and fretwork and the able draft beast.

[worlds_of_smoke]

oh, this is wonderful.

[inoru_no_hoshi]

<3 More lovely imagery and feels. /broken record.

[davidgillon]

If't were mine, I'd be tempted by:
"Carve them bone-deep, filigree
and fretwork my flesh:"
- keep it all as verb vs mixed verb and noun.

It's a fascinating one to read for what it says, not solely for how it says it (which is probably how I too often read poetry).

[alexseanchai]

*hug*