Had a painting class today and was surprised at how exhausted I felt afterwards, from standing up so much and from focussing so intently on trying to see. I was going to cry off today’s poem but thought that was a bit feeble for even me: stopping the challenge after only one day. Anyway, those are my excuses for the rather poor effort that follows. I promise much better excuses tomorrow .
I tried to engage with today’s prompt (a letter to a person you desire but have not told) but had a lot of trouble doing so. I thought of the narrator as being shy, maybe a bit autistic, but taken by a girl in his workplace, and tried to imagine what he would write to her. Then I realised he would not be able to write and the following resulted.
He knows her only by the fluxion
Of negative space, can describe
The manifold ways she transforms
A room but not the colour
Of her eyes, can map her progress
In others’ smiles but could not trace
Her lips’ contours, hears only the internal monologue
Of self-disgust when she speaks, and so
Will never look up.