Fingers blanched, frozen, tingling with anticipation
I stood braced against the rail. The snow
railing against me, wiping me out.
Leaving me nothing to talk about
Your silence offended me, taciturn as ever
We live as one but might as well be on different planets
We orbit something, the universe knows what
She orbited the room. Every day, the same room.
This is a collective poem from the Literary Potlatch, written by the participants on the day, with each of them only able to see the previous line. At present, the image accompanying it is a stock photo but we would really love someone to respond to the poem visually, as only an original image can possibly do it justice. Full credit will of course be given. Please email firstname.lastname@example.org if you’re interested in creating something special we can share. Thank you 🙂