So, I recently wrote the poem Ink Dreams for an assignment in my poetry class (Yup, I’m taking a poetry class this semester. You are hereby warned of the incoming poetry), and I’ve gotten a great reception from you all. The assignment was to write a poem with this prompt: “_____ drips from______ fingers while they sleep.” In addition to Ink Dreams, I wrote one other poem and I have decided to send it out to you for feedback. It is a little less refined than Ink Dreams, but that is mainly because I am not sure what to do next. Enjoy!
Sunlight drips from your fingers while you sleep
Past the hangnails, the torn fingertips,
The clinging ingrained dirt
Pooling on the floorboards,
Rippling over the discards of your life,
That have attained so fine a layer of dust
That it floats when you open the window to elicit a breeze
In your stagnant body.
You lay in the middle of your circle of sunlight
But cling to the darkness under your pillow,
Basking in the shadows
And fearing the light.