Between the lines.
P.S. I had a conversation with a colleague from work about poems, iambic pentameter, and all. I decided to write something and ask chatGPT for its iambic pentameter version. Which resonates more with you? I think my version is warmer.
Words sat neatly,
but the weight was elsewhere,
in the shift of a gaze,
in the breath held too long.
Laughter came late,
soft around the edges,
like a curtain pulled over something
not ready to be seen.
Eyes moved too fast,
dodging meaning,
yet giving everything away.
Hands spoke in stillness,
in the way they didn’t reach,
didn’t rest,
didn’t need to.
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Not everything honest needs a voice.
Some truths arrive slowly,
settling into silence,
filling the room,
long after the talking is done.
The words were placed with care, but held no weight.
A glance betrayed what lips refused to name.
The breath was stalled, then loosed a touch too late,
a silence trembling louder than the flame.
The laughter came, but gentled at the seam,
a veil drawn soft across the unseen part.
The eyes would dance, then dart away from dream,
revealing more than speech could dare to start.
The hands were still, yet whispered in their rest,
not reaching out, but speaking all the same.
What truth remains does not demand confessed,
some truths arrive too deep to call by name.
They linger long beyond the final sound,
and shape the quiet even when unbound.
Who gets your vote?
