May 1, 2012
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False Valse
Parted from my heart
hope demanded candor.
It stings,
but just for a squalid moment.then all is clean
White even, but blinding
the scent is between this morning’s tea and
new shoesThe world can close around your wound
Shifting between blame and acceptance
Calm and choking
air and promiseCut me;
I bleed the color you crave
Scarlet or crimson, if you prefer
a red word spokenan object into the night air
from lips which sting for a moment
propelled clean
to your waiting and hungry heartWhile I slip to anorexic dreams
Thinning now into hot sheets
cutting dollar store craft glitter
I’d mistaken for stardust
Comments (6)
I like this
very evocative; almost a stream of consciousness thing; an appropriate response, rather than a loud raucous applause, is to, like at the rock concerts, hold aloft a single lit flame.
another response is to extend a hand across the distance and give the other’s hand just a slight squeeze.
I love the low of words and feelings.
Wishing you a nice day,
frank
@AgainstTheWind1 - 0_o
This poem just makes me want to cry… The sadness really pierces me. Well written.
@RazielV - Sorry you had to see that. :(