Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2011

Sex is just a metaphor

by rhiannon frame

Everyone says OhiLoveyou. Everybody says hellohellomeetmyboyfriend-
he's the one holding my hand like it might fly away -
but does anybody, anybody, feel the things we do?
I didn't want to hurt you or box you in, I just, well.
I wanted to create you.
Give you a new name, contribute something, anything. It suits you.
It's late and maybe your bones are choking on gaping throats,
dark red and terrifying. Come, find your place in the folded corner of
my paper arms. Origami girl, smiles mean creases.
Don't tell, but it was all just a test.

That bruise I left,
was no accident,
no shopping bag forgotten on a bus.
Mouth shaped, violet, violent love.

Last night
your eyes were flecked with harmonics
flicked from your fingertips and left
suspended like dust on patches of light.
You convert a silent no to a humming,
reverb yes
yes, yes. I'm holding my breath.

Added: 15.03.2011

Judges' comments on this poem


the only thing I don't like about this is the title. The poem itself is very individual with some good imagery - especially the love bite.