He’s a bold man that first ate an oyster- Jonathan Swift
“Fresh paint, “ he snapped, “is what we need,” the walls
an oyster white. No cultured pearls inside
the varnished shell they shared, the ruffled trim
a drizzled gray. His irritation vexed
her, rubbed like grains of sand. She mouthed, “No way
we’re painting now.” The words unclenched her teeth.
She sighed and turned. The rays from slanted blinds
diffused oblique despair. The saline taste
she sought was there, beyond the open door.
She packed and swam away. He painted walls.
“The saline taste
she sought was there, beyond the open door.”
Yes, that’s it. A promise.
If she didn’t help paint, she won’t be happy with the color. Perhaps she could paint the trim. Even under water it sounds like real life.
Or, it’s a metaphor for a soggy relationship:)
“Oblique despair”…I like the intelligence behind this…and swimming away!
I appreciate your insight. Thanks.
Oh, this one is smart!
So strong – I can feel where you are coming from here. Is there any hope in pearls being formed from rubbing grains of sand (at least I think this is how they’re made)?
Yes, that’s precisely what I was aiming for in this metaphor.
impressed by your talent here.
visit me to claim awards in my post……Happy Potluck!
Thank you for your vote of confidence!
Ahwww… that’s life. How silly we can be.
Oh! I see… a great way to tell a story!
I liked it 🙂
Thanks! I’m glad you followed my train of poetic thoughts.