he wash breaks from the line,
white linen flinging from your hands,
coming undone midair like
wings without bodies,
the shoulders of shirts smoothed out <- Weird verb association between smooth and wilt.
and wilting as wingspans.
[far above the cumulus is curled
in the shape of a woman,
such long lines and swoops—
she walks into the sky
as if she were a bride,
the linen gathered at her feet,
fluttering,]-> In brackets it's rather hard to read, choppy the flow picks up swiftly but you lose it just as quickly.
and in her wake
the petals of diving wrens,
a slanted arc of bodies in flight, <- Like this.
their hollow bones clasped and aimed
as kites untethered in a twirl
around her.
*your shoulders move in the pale curve
of hers, her torso lifting like a sail
at the altar of immense blue, arms
flared into wings and flying,
everything within her unraveling
into cirrus—*
You get a lot more motion in this stanza I see it developping here compared to the rest of the stanza
but far beneath
your hands are still hands,
your body still a body
and the line stripped of its wings.
Weak ending, anti climatic, and generally disappointing.
the wash breaks from the line,
white linen flinging from your hands, Remove the comma here for smoother flow.
coming undone midair like
wings without bodies,
the shoulders of shirts smoothed out
and wilting as wingspans.
far above(comma here) the cumulus is curled
in the shape of a woman,
such long lines and swoops—
she walks into the sky
as if she were a bride,
the linen gathered at her feet,
fluttering,
and in her wake
the petals of diving wrens,
a slanted arc of bodies in flight,
their hollow bones clasped and aimed
as kites untethered in a twirl
around her.
your shoulders move in the pale curve
of hers, her torso lifting like a sail
at the altar of immense blue, arms
flared into wings and flying,
everything within her unraveling
into cirrus—
but far beneath (comma again)
your hands are still hands,
your body still a body
and the line stripped of its wings.
the wash breaks from the line, Personally - and this could just be me - I'm used to "wash" being a verb, and not a noun.
white linen flinging from your hands, "Flinging" flows pretty horribly.
coming undone midair like Maybe sticking an "in" before "midair" might be a good idea.
wings without bodies,
the shoulders of shirts smoothed out Meh. Were you hoping for the alliteration to have some effect? It really didn't, at least not a positive one. Also, I don't see how this imagery relates to what precedes it.
and wilting as wingspans. Once again. And this time, it doesn't even make sense.
far above the cumulus is curled Meh. Tongue-twisters don't tend to sit well in poetry.
in the shape of a woman,
such long lines and swoops— Not sure what you're trying to get across with this.
she walks into the sky So bland. This could be much better.
as if she were a bride, Since when was there a rhyme scheme?
the linen gathered at her feet, Nicely done.
fluttering,
and in her wake How about changing the "her" to an "its?"
the petals of diving wrens, Comma? Normally a verb would follow the noun.
a slanted arc of bodies in flight, Not sure about "bodies in flight."
their hollow bones clasped and aimed Now it just sounds as if you're trying to carry the sentence past its limit.
as kites untethered in a twirl "In a twirl" is sooo simplistic.
around her.
your shoulders move in the pale curve I like this.
of hers, her torso lifting like a sailToo many L's in the last part.
at the altar of immense blue, arms It takes too long for the reader to realize that you're intending "blue" to be a noun.
flared into wings and flying, Pretty good, I suppose.
everything within her unraveling Again, this sentence is much too long.
into cirrus—
but far beneath
your hands are still hands,
your body still a body
and the line stripped of its wings. I think there should be an "is" between "line" and "stripped."