My heart was a door left, a jar
(of   fireflies  spent)
and you slithered inside
to steal their last smudged
bit of glow.

Oh, how these marbled hours
do drag

Know that I am
keeper of the lid
of my own glass
house, even
after all the last
stones have been


inspired by a line offered by pinkgirlink.
are you stuck today? head over for more first lines.



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13 Responses to Twist

  1. Kir Piccini says:

    Sometimes, I swear, you write everything sitting on my heart.
    Just stunning.

  2. Shawna says:

    There’s a lot of space between those fireflies to allow something creepy to slither in between the letters. I accidentally read (and loved) this: “Know that I am leper,” which is only a hop[e], skip, and a jump away from “Know that I am leopard.” Isn’t that interesting? Most people who are leopards on the inside are probably lepers on the outside. I suppose that’s why they’re also so often (ledge) leapers.

  3. Miss Stacy says:

    again, you have wrapped these words together in a perfectly closed glass…i imagine the cork popping, words slipping from the neck of a wine bottle…just as the would the throat of the poet.

    absolutely love this! 🙂

  4. drnurit says:

    Delighted I came to visit your site, De. This poem is delightful! Love the metaphors, the language — its softness and depth, the message. Amazing, as always…

  5. blogoratti says:

    Well written, reads like a song!

  6. Well, at least the stones are thrown in and not at to break the whole house. Perhaps they could be useful. Though without light I can see why the hours do drag-on! I love that first line!

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