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10 April 2014

The rupture of the dome of the sky






Your ripped red dress         falling on the ground
and your victorious smile   at my weakness.

Did you think that              you could escape
my hands, my looks           my crumbling desire

       at every dark and throbbing hour
       of our first last love,

       the ever-flowing fountain
       of first blood and last pulses...

       Did you think you could escape
       the rupture in the dome of the sky?


R. R. Shea

2 comments:

  1. interesting form ... i like the ripped red dress (would like even more to have been the ripper) ... first blood and last pulses very nice; the form of the opening verses prompt me actually to see the opening phrase as the ripped dress, and the succeeding phrase as the dress on the ground, I see the next phrase as the smiler and the next as the smiled upon--the gaps enable a pleasing ability to separate the concepts and visualization of that which they signify/evoke from one to the next ... which works and seems appropriate: the smile is one thing, the weakness another. The rupture in the dome evokes a sexual image, which seems fitting for this poem, but beyond the obvious I'm not sure ultimately what to think of its meaning(s). Fine work!

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  2. Sir, wonderful critique! Thank you for taking the time. It means a lot to me.

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