I wake in the middle of the night
and whisper my body into yours:
two quiet lightbulbs breathing
in each other’s light.
there’s something so deliberate
in the shape of hips, hands,
breasts and mouth —
scientific and wanting and honest;
we breathe in and out at once.
there is a strange
unattachment
when I clamber from bed,
but returning to you is like realizing
the shape of my body,
remembering what it feels like
to be filled with light
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137,663 Literary Works • 672,057 Reviews
:O
Okay, Persy.
I love the associative metaphor that you work into in the second stanza. It's not straightforward. If we think of it straightforward, it seems silly. But if we open our minds to the poem, it definitely works. We just think of the light bulbs, the light they radiate as their breath. Especially if you could perhaps bring in the idea of cold, that might make this image work even better, since in the winter we can see our own breath and it looks a lot like light in a mist.
That's gorgeous, but it doesn't really fit with the third stanza. The fourth fits even less with the rest. I could buy the third stanza: there's something deliberate in the shape, which hearkens back to the shape of a lightbulb, especially when you use the word "scientific" afterward, and you do go back to the breathing there.
I think one of the problems with the fourth stanza is that it contains too quick of a 180 degree turnaround: the first three lines you're climbing out of bed, and the last you're already back -- we ask what was the point of mentioning going out in the first place? You might answer so that you could get the feeling of return, but it doesn't actually feel like you left because it was so short. Perhaps if the leaving section was longer and purposeful, we'd feel as satisfied with the last few lines as the character supposedly does in return.
I'd recommend trying to find something more concrete or awe-inspiring to be filled with than "light", which has been explored shallowly by most poets -- what is this speaker really filled with?
I agree with @dragonfpheonix. You mention whispering and then light. I found it pretty confusing, and it didn't go together that well. I also feel that this poem should be rated 16+ for mature content. It's clear what this poem is about and it isn't appropriate for certain audiences.
I think the last stanza doesn't really make sense. You say that there is a strange unattachment when you clamber from your bed. And then when you return you realize the shape of your body. First of all, why is there unattachment? Why did you leave to begin with? I think you have potential to be a very poet, you definitely have emotional definition when you write. I just don't think this poem was amazing. However, I did like the last two lines.
"remembering what it feels like
to be filled with light"
I thought that you closed the poem well, although the analogies clashed. So keep writing, you WILL get better in time.
I felt like the two analogies were totally incongruous. There's whispering, and then there's light. There's this sort of wispiness to it (returning to you is like realizing) and then there's this ambience (what it feels like/ to be filled with light), and I just didn't feel like the two went together that well. But maybe if you played up on the ethereal nature of both and focused that into a unity of symbolism, playing on the intangibleness of both breath and light, then it might click a little better.
Hope this helps!