
12-12-2009, 10:58 PM
((I'm Triple Posting Because It's Such A Long Poem))
Letters To Him Pt2
VI. – Affaire D’amour
In multihued moss sheets you had debauched
butterfly kisses snaking forbidden
fruit across my cherry pressed lips first hocked
in some oasis black market. Laden
in sediments and your sonnets fluttered
on my tongue like nectar salivating
my then new born loss. Cocooned, I shuttered
reservation in greener grass waiting
for the next hidden garden you’d unearth.
Our virtues fell, raked and pagan favored,
broom hopping to a new time spelled in mirth.
The pages exiles descending silver
lining- climax out lasts sky castle fate-
for me; deliverance of something great.
VII. – Par Excellence
For me, deliverance of something great
had sauntered higher, fixed sight lewd and flushed.
Lips chirruped dulcet sermons into late
day. Apple petals accent your new tux
like how illuminated I’m in white.
Our consummation delved in cotton shrouds
coupled inside a core sprouting delight.
Do you remember? Our limbs reached clouds;
roots nipped rain that day budding me anew-
so new I bordered exotic on your
thoughts. Weighing the photographs, who knew
then you moved on greener pastures? Before
I sat among tarot cards your hands, clutching
my tealeaves, ached the lacking eager touch.
VIII. – Arriere-pensee
My tealeaves ached. The lacking eager touch
infiltrated sheet after sheet veining
endeavors to blotch out reluctant hunches
that this novel’s tailed by stitching refrains.
Summer’s heat gusts against sun-kissed harvest
piling stillness on the table between
us plating the grasses bronze. I grew fond
of that; only achieving third it seemed
myself. The tumbling days etched a retreat
for Zeus’s brighter smile, but He’s not
yours so I doubt you noticed the defeat.
Did I, this Lithe, run folly when Eve caught
your Adam’s apple as dawn tricked early call?
Should’ve realized your Eden would fall.
IX. – Coup de Grace
Should’ve realized your Eden would fall
drawing stale air from your rewritten word.
Only perfected ideals made recall
since you weeded my Shadows*. Once I heard
the stairs creek your name I couldn’t contain
the clouded faces; wrenched glances sidelining
these potted feet from dashing to the shamed
final chapter where you stood only finding
a dirt covered shovel. Our hard work plowed over
in the midst of trampled poises; fresh buds
turned in from her hands and knees. The clover
lost luck before it was page pressed. It’s mud
caked our memoir smudging revelations
between my entries overlooked by pens.
X. – Pis Aller
Between my entries overlooked by pens
I six-sensed your habitation, but fled
scribbling away screeches. Bandaged and pinned,
sat All Hollow’s costumes the in old shed
where bats narrowly squeaked by flooding light.
Black and orange still garnish the site, ribbons
silhouette the ceiling cupping dust mites
far from the crystal below. Oh, the fun
we had stepping wicked tunes. Red wine stained
our tongues and you idolized me then
in my witch’s rig. My runes laid out claim
of tomorrow’s theory. Must have missed when
you were lost to parasitical maws
and bugs; the vermin that consume recall.
* I put this here because not everyone knows what a Book of Shadows is. The best way I can put it is a Pagan’s diary and spell book.
Last edited by Lovers Never Tell; 12-12-2009 at 11:01 PM..
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