September 3, 2024
 |  35 Comments

I am known for gentle songs, while others 
claim I will be obsessed until my dying day— 
his liquid laughter  
is as veins of light threading  
through  
dark low clouds,  
is as rivers and waterfalls that make  
the heart glad,  
my breath is gone, and senses lost, 
I lie in hopes of extinguishing the flames
that grow in ribcage, 
who cares whether it rains or snows  
in the streets outside? 

Since it was never intended, do not complain
if I leave  
lipstick stains on hollow of throat— 
his laughter, as though hope  
that surges  
through alleyways of a desperate country, 
is as wheat and barley, 
discerning  
what has long been raveled and rent, 
is as sweetness of peaches  
and plums,
I implore, do not take this away from me.  

Limit food and water, if you must,  
I am dissolved in hours of laughter anyway, 
take away youthful wantonness 
and give me wisdom instead, 
I do not wish to live in a world  
where his voice does not reach my ears, 
his lips as though glass of wine 
and smiles in place of bread, 
so comforting that even hues of dusk pale 
in comparison. 

When will his soul lust enough to know 
that laughter doubles? 
That autumn surrounds and sun reflects on  
leaves as if playing with tone,  
searching  
for the perfect combination of pigment. 

Since it was never intended, do not complain 
if I toy with mane,  
long and dark as if daring me to dream, 
his laughter loosens knots, 
offers solace  
when the world pokes fun— 
though eternal note of sadness remains, 
his laughter waltzes with style, 
I do not wish to part with him lest 
everything goes awry. 
Nobody knows the fumbling of flowers  
when he treads  
upon the ground, I don’t blame them.

 

 

 

Photo credits: Pinterest

Loosely inspired by the poem “Your Laughter,” by Pablo Neruda. 

Mish is our lovely hostess at dVerse where we are asked to write on the theme
of laughter. Come join us! 💝

Posted for Poetics: Just for Laughs @dVerse Poets Pub