Madeline Harper

United Kingdom

Flute player
Writer
A bit of a science nerd ngl
Animal Lover
Plant Collector
Baker

Message from Writer

Please feel free to leave comments/criticisms, I haven’t been writing poetry for very long and I’m determined to improve!

Man-Made Lover

June 7, 2020

FREE WRITING

4
I crafted a mannequin in my attic.
Statuesque, stoic, draped in linen and lace;
awaiting a austere girl like myself
(I took it as a compliment), life is simpler when you smile.

Every night, without fail, I 
crept up the stairs to meet him.
He requested I smuggle him lilies from the garden
so I dropped them at his feet.

I’m starving for the grapes
you hold in your eyes. 

It was a drizzly night when
I fashioned him hair out of wheat.
The husks of grain wouldn’t lay still-
I spent hours calming him, let me stay.

If I tuck whispered endearments into his shirt,
flatten out cloth and sew
promises into his lips then
perhaps we can dance and pretend we have a chance.

The next morning I simpered at
saffron soaked dew on the grass.
My mother’s lilies were wilting, autumn frost clamped down, but
I gathered them anyway. Sometimes

it’s easier to salvage a dead flower
than plant juvenile seeds again. The petals wither.
Can we be reckless once more?
I’ll play the records, I know you love the blues.

Another blissful evening I stroked his
cheeks with strawberry juice - liquid
streamed down his chalky face and
sank through his collar.

Give me plums, he said to me,
so I hurried to the grocers and
clutched the ripest of the fruits as I 
dashed back to the attic. He gazed upon me with

a glance I could only describe as sour,
as if I’d returned with lemons in my hands.
Let me light a candle, if I can keep the wick alight
perhaps you’d dance with me another night?

As we waltzed, I allowed my heart to 
fog over with mist, jaded oak
sympathy to the pianist’s dissonant appiritions. 
Willow sags and pine cones will fall, it’s how it’s done.

I’m ravenous but the grapes in your eyes
are fermenting and I can’t stand the taste.

I never returned to the attic.
I crave milky hands, too tall to kiss
and I never doubted my safety with him but
a man-made lover will never satisfy you.


 
Please review! I need to know what people think, I’ve shoved lots of inspiration and ideas into one poem so it might be a bit messy.

Login or Signup to provide a comment.

3 Comments
  • Anne Blackwood

    The story here is so clear yet extremely poetic and symbolic and beautiful dang!


    6 months ago
  • WinterBerry

    This is such a beautiful poem!


    6 months ago
  • thelostave

    This is absolutely wonderful. "Let me light a candle, if I can keep the wick alight
    perhaps you’d dance with me another night?" That line...Wow. Just wow. I love this piece.


    6 months ago