#1
Hilary sits in a wicker rocking chair one arm reaching up
to the King Fisher stuffed and perched on her desk. And one hand reaching down
to the brown leaves hunched into patterns of crosses and lines on the hardwood,
“if those eyes could tell me and if my eyes could see. It comes a firecracker-
indecipherable- vivid-

big light, low ceiling, air much too thin in between to breathe evenly anymore,
smooth laquer, her socks slip when she tries to stand, and the rain-
gauze on her forehead cradling sweet sweat and blood pours down down down-
she lowers her hand and she’s not listening anymore,
twists her wrists, steep angles of vines her seedling frame can no longer contain

her body is growing right before our eyes
when her arm breaks the window she’s too big for the room and the rain…
and she wears the house like a cement ballgown-
head sixty feet in the air, rising, and the rain… is nothing to a giant
whose wounds heal miraculously,
who we now see jump across the ocean to breach the boulder resting still
deep in the outskirts of galilee
breaking through promise lands like Styrofoam, and her arms straight like ramrods
ready to clean the depths of the subterranean cannons,
she spins them quick with her toes locked in the earth- fires mercilessly,
wood splinters line her bones like electric fences-

blows her nose with a cloud, picks her teeth with lightning,
lights the fuse and watches
everything growing and shrinking before her own eyes
mirror… magnifying glass… giant bees killing bulls...
cobbles under the horsemen submit and shudder
-

she’s got a moth in her mouth from this day on
and we still can’t even begin to guess who we are
#2
I loved what this was saying and the language that you used; however, I found the format to hinder this slightly - mainly through really bad and often confusing (the mysterious " at the start of the penultimate line of the first stanza, for example) punctuation. If this was punctuated evenly and correctly, or not at all, this would be wonderful. However, as it is, the punctuation hinders the reading of this piece.
#3
yeah, my punctuation on OTS pieces are generally really nonsensical, I'll definitely look into changing it.

I'm curious though, what did you think this was saying? I'm interested in interpretation on this one moreso than direct criticism.

should I comment on the one in your sig?
#4
The whole body growing and floating away section struck a very "alice in wonderland" chord with me, and tied together with the ending, gave me the feeling that this was about being uncomfortable in your own skin, trying to break out and find who you really are. That kind of insanity you feel when you wake up in the morning and can't seem to work out whose looking back at you in the mirror. That's what I got at least. And if you wouldn't mind, the link in my sig needs a good raiding.
#5
Quote by #1 synth
Hilary sits in a wicker rocking chair one arm reaching up
to the King Fisher stuffed and perched on her desk. And one hand reaching down
to the brown leaves hunched into patterns of crosses and lines on the hardwood,
“if those eyes could tell me and if my eyes could see. It comes a firecracker-
indecipherable- vivid-
A suitably interesting introduction which drew me in. The inconsistency of "one arm reaching up" and "one had reaching down" sort of irked me a little, not sure why. i like the way the ending is breaking up, breaking down even into just a string of words.

big light, low ceiling, air much too thin in between to breathe evenly anymore,
smooth laquer, her socks slip when she tries to stand, and the rain-
gauze on her forehead cradling sweet sweat and blood pours down down down-
she lowers her hand and she’s not listening anymore,
twists her wrists, steep angles of vines her seedling frame can no longer contain
Despite carrying on a slight truncation of sorts with the short bursts the first line here ends up flowing well, it almost gives me a feeling of the irregularities of breathing you are describing. Didn't like the "down down down" particularly, the rest is very nicely written and carries you through quite elegantly.

her body is growing right before our eyes
when her arm breaks the window she’s too big for the room and the rain…
and she wears the house like a cement ballgown-
head sixty feet in the air, rising, and the rain… is nothing to a giant
whose wounds heal miraculously,
who we now see jump across the ocean to breach the boulder resting still
deep in the outskirts of galilee
breaking through promise lands like Styrofoam, and her arms straight like ramrods
ready to clean the depths of the subterranean cannons,
she spins them quick with her toes locked in the earth- fires mercilessly,
wood splinters line her bones like electric fences-
"and she wears the house like a cement ballgown" I thought this line was excellent. The imagery contained in the whole of this stanza is quite vivid, although the content is rather strange and leads you on a journey which makes you a little apprehensive, you've definitely provoked something here, not sure i totally enjoy how outlandish it is though.

blows her nose with a cloud, picks her teeth with lightning,
lights the fuse and watches
everything growing and shrinking before her own eyes
mirror… magnifying glass… giant bees killing bulls...
cobbles under the horsemen submit and shudder
-
Carrying on in a similar vein, some quite garish scenes, didn't particularly like the line - "mirror… magnifying glass… giant bees killing bulls..." it felt undeveloped as if you had ideas for lines and instead of fleshing them out, just wrote words down.

she’s got a moth in her mouth from this day on
and we still can’t even begin to guess who we are

A somewhat cryptic ending that doesn't really bring any closure, if anything it suggests a continuation to come in some guise or another.

One the whole this has some excellent ideas and images, the writing is on the whole very good but in places lacks refinement. Regardless of any perceived flaws it was an enjoyable read which provoked thoughts and images, i enjoyed it.
#6
You've become an extensive of a style I think I've really fell in love with over the years. You've taken how I write and moved into a very interesting style that suits you very well. This doesn't read as lyrical as mine, or as flowing, but it's still got a dreamy, chopped and nonlinear way about it that really moves it along nicely. Like a sweet smell from a draft or something, it just kind of floats freely around until it decides to end.

Good job, really interesting piece you've got here.

Check out mine, Gestures
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