Sitting in the darkness near the edge of twilight
A world apart and far removed
Scene One:
Flash frozen in thyme not long ago
A still imaged gorgeous sunshine queen
Cold stone but etched in flesh forever
And made of brick and blonde and bones
…and yet never was I…
The eyeglass nor the camera lens
Scene Two:
On hardwood floors where creaks run dry
A performance unnerved while giving birth
To dreams awake and dreams to take
Creating worlds from sand and pebbles
…and yet never was I…
Existentially the audience intentioned
Scene Three:
From notes that fall like sleet and hail
Slow moving lips with rhythmic twists
Intoxication bursts sweet nectar melody
To cage the bird and free the song
…and yet never was I…
Noted worth leaving torn in eighths
Scene Four:
The pole that smokes the dim of night
A tale to wag and wink and whine
Beyond crumpled compliments from leaves that fall
Swept steeply in details of intimacy
…and yet never was I…
Chariot driven to the final race.
Sitting in the darkness near the edge of twilight
I remember the world that was a part of you.
2 comments:
This poem is so deep. There is this feeling of sadness that haunts throughout. I wonder what inspired you
Why thank you, memories...
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