Monday, October 10, 2005

She waits behind closed doors.
Her eyes search for gravity,
beyond the chains and bars
that hold her there.

A painted window shows her things.
A winter sought from ashes of the summer.

The fall brings
crisp black lungs,
sighing down
off elm trees
and weeping willows.
Limbs of trees gracefully raking
the blue sky clean.

A cinder world
under a sea of stars.

She stands slowly.
Repeating the question
he asked first:
Are you living to die,
or dying to live?

Her eyes catch window panes
once more
and she can taste the air,
like ashes, like blood.
The history she was
meant to forget.

Grey flat walls splattered
on a ceiling fan.
Cadence of a stereo.
It was a hot day.
The flames made it hotter,
and his breath
down her neck.

A luminescent skylight
that lit the scene.
An enamored porchlight
reflected in their eyes.
And snow dancing down
to extinguish the licking
black flames of the fire.

He had kept her heart
in a jewelry box.
Quietly beating.
Softly waiting.

The air turned cold swiftly.
She shivered as she remembered
how it had happened and
they led her
down the dimly lit halls
that so many had gone through,
but had never returned.
Hardly lit for use of energy.
Energy meant for her execution.
She closed her eyes.

He had caught her and
kept her love in jars.
His eyes were a reflection
of fireflies.

Founded in the heat
of a strong sewer storm,
they sold their fingernails
to the crowds,
waiting for the rain
to predict lightning bolts
and love fortunes.
Seaweed wraps as blindfolds
for their eyes.
Neptune's wrath for wasted blood.
They lit fires at midnight
and watched them burn till dawn.

Her breath spawned thick air;
heavy molecules.
It had been a stranglation
by hula hoop earrings.

Are you living to die,
or dying to live?

Tripped a wire, cut a throat,
spilled his life on the steps
leading up to the storm.

He had kept her heart
in a jewelry box.
Her love splattered
on the sidewalk.

She sat and watched as
they pulled the straps tight
against her thin wrists.
A metal contraption placed
on her head.

She thought back to the days
lying drunk on the carpet floor,
watching the channels change,
as she studied the guards' faces.
She wondered if they had ever
lit fires to save their love.

And then it was time.
No windows here.
The world was never meant
to know this kind of
corruption.
She closed her eyes
and waited for the heat
of the fire.

A moonbeam streaking
across the sun.
Early morning burnt flesh.
A beautiful electrocution.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow. Honestly. Absolutely stunning to such an extent that I cannot even begin to describe it. WELL worth the wait! Bloody hell, you're talented!

Mike

5:33 PM  

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