Hour 3: Reticence


I see you true

I caught a glimpse

of the soul you hide behind your eyes


I saw you see me, too


You seem a dream

A cruel mirage

and yet you are the one who grounds me


So too, I hope

there must be something holds you here


You give me strength

with strength you show

when edges of the world do graze you


It does not hurt

you try to lie


your voice betrays you


This I wish:

The words to speak

and a voice to speak them


And this I fear:

That you might fade away and I might miss you

I hesitate


 if it would not be meet to kiss you


Allow me this:

A fingertip

My being focused fully to this single point in space


Let me reach you

Give me grace

to trace the salty paths the past has left upon your face


About this poem:

This is another one that I had been trying to write for a long time. My notes consisted of the prototype for the last two stanzas and a few other words, phrases, and ideas I wanted to include. It's a rather poetic coincidence that it was my own reticence to discard my bias of form and structure that kept me from finishing it. The time-based constraints of the marathon begged the approach of pushing the limits and trying new techniques. So I was pleased to find that when I just let this idea be what it was - fluid and imperfect - it came out as I must have known in my heart it should; raw, honest, and emotional.

Form/Style: Free
Rhythm/Metre: Free
Rhyme/Scheme: Some unstructured and internal rhyming, some assonance and some alliteration.
Themes and Tone: 
The overlying theme is hesitation through fear, doubt, or misunderstanding. It is somewhat paradoxical in that it expresses an inability to express. There is a sense of shyness, vulnerability, uncertainty and holding back. Ultimately, it is a confession of affection towards someone who the narrator is afraid they'll lose if they do not speak, yet fearful of repulsing them if they do. Driven to urgency, perhaps by an imminent parting of ways, they decide the reward is greater than the risk, and the risk is nominal compared to the regret they would forever be burdened with.


The End

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