He Never Hit Me 5


But when I sit under the ocean
The sand reminds me of him.
It digs between my toes,
Inching its way up.
When I lie in wild fields,
I remember how he was a gardener,
Encouraging bruises to sprout from my skin
Like fingerprint violets;
How he grew vines around my wrists,
Red imprints of his life line,
His love line.
When I sleep by a fire,
The heat is his warm arms
Swaying with steps
And with each pop from the hearth,
He is there, tongue like embers
Saying he loves me.

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5 Comments on "He Never Hit Me"

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Dave Kavanagh
Admin

This is such strong poetry, Ashleigh. Well written with strong metaphor throughout. Thank you for sharing your writing here. I have selected this poem for ‘Editors Picks’

Lori Hamilton
Member

such a sensory write. the senses you don’t tease literally within these lines, you allude to…the fragrance of the sea was particularly strong for me. your metaphors are striking wrapped up in these vivid images. very lovely work.

🙂

Victoria Donnelly
Member

A really creative perspective of a difficult subject…great work.

Naomi Tate Maghen
Member

I really like this write. It doesn’t come out and say ‘I’m in pain’, but there’s a heady sense of loss and longing here in his remembrance. Quite lovely

Mario Vitale
Member

great piece very free flowing indeed

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