{"id":40650,"date":"2017-08-06T01:56:38","date_gmt":"2017-08-06T05:56:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=40650"},"modified":"2017-08-06T01:56:38","modified_gmt":"2017-08-06T05:56:38","slug":"palette","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2017\/08\/palette\/","title":{"rendered":"Palette"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>My neighbour irons nights at her first floor window<\/p>\n<p>keeping one eye for Love Island, the other on me,<\/p>\n<p>After 6 months she asked if I&#8217;d be buying curtains<\/p>\n<p>with such conviction it sounded like<\/p>\n<p>she&#8217;d witnessed something still to happen.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>These unemployed years<\/p>\n<p>she contents herself with the amusement of<\/p>\n<p>someone gratefully retelling a witnessed car-crash,<\/p>\n<p>logging my late night hours, remarking that<\/p>\n<p>my tv still glows between pole &amp; frame<\/p>\n<p>and how, each time she gets up to relieve herself,<\/p>\n<p>she thinks I must be a vampire.<\/p>\n<p>Doubtless all the black doesn&#8217;t help.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Yet, yesterday I saw a girl so white<\/p>\n<p>she blazed from the distance<\/p>\n<p>a planning notice resonates,<\/p>\n<p>cheek flesh the hardboiled hue of Cool Hand&#8217;s bet,<\/p>\n<p>neck a counter slick of skimmed milk<\/p>\n<p>butting two unsheathed reams of clavicles,<\/p>\n<p>with a sternum of tripe pinned so tight<\/p>\n<p>her cleavage shone like lid-clinging<\/p>\n<p>home-brand, Greek yogurt,<\/p>\n<p>limbs tapering into the sun,<\/p>\n<p>ankles, wrists as Tippex bright<\/p>\n<p>as her High Top toecaps.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>But<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>no matter how much breath her<\/p>\n<p>floating step, dancing hem<\/p>\n<p>filleted from me,<\/p>\n<p>I could not say a word,<\/p>\n<p>for in the instant of eye-shift behind lens,<\/p>\n<p>of lip-rise and drop again<\/p>\n<p>I knew<\/p>\n<p>that every kiss would leave her mauled<\/p>\n<p>like a drowned girl in the morgue<\/p>\n<p>been mapped for bruises.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>My neighbour irons nights at her first floor window keeping one eye for Love Island, the other on me, After 6 months she asked if I&#8217;d be buying curtains with such conviction it sounded like she&#8217;d witnessed something still to happen. &nbsp; These unemployed years&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1073,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-40650","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-half-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/40650","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1073"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=40650"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/40650\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":40722,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/40650\/revisions\/40722"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=40650"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=40650"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=40650"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}