no reprieve
you dance your spondees
upon me in sea urchins
that tickle my fingers in
the depths of the sea, you
must impress your noxious
presence upon me even if
I am enjoying myself and
especially then; I want a
moment’s reprieve from
the world and you’re there
to force me back to the face
of reality riddled with his
garish scars and boring stories —
I would much rather roam
freely in the sea of my mind;
so if you would kindly remove
your foot from my imagination
I will proceed to live my life.
death
death comes in slants
he takes a little of you
bit by bit he steals a
little something from
you; a familiar face
that you once knew
a smile that once
stretched the length
of your face; the
topography of the
hands you once knew
so very well all those
years ago, it leaves you
a comatose wilted rose.
uncomfortable skin
he laughed at her as she
came pirouetting out in
her favorite gown sewn
by the hand of truth, he
tore some fabric out in
fissures so that only the
half truths and lies were
clothing her form; she
did not feel comfortable
in the solace of these
bones that gnawed at
the tissues of her heart —
burning fissures of black
into her silver soul, an
absinthe of sorts; but he
told her that it was all
going to be okay, that it
didn’t matter, that nothing
mattered; this moment
would be immortal, that
their love would spin out
a tale more well known
than any tale of Shakespeare.
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