Monique
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Mona de Femme
🕑 Added 2017-03-10 06:40:10 +0000 UTC This moon pains me,Swoons; Restrains me.
Clawing the shore
Drawing forth
Hot blood at high tide.
Exposing ugly features
Those carniverous
Creatures
That I'd buried deep
In thick blankets of darkness.
They harken
To the starkness.
It bathes them in light.
It begs their expression.
They burn their plight
Like scars on my flesh, and
Have I, after all this time,
Left the wrong impression?
The night begged the question.
There came a silence.
Felled over, like heavy black ink
On illustrious prose
Like the night against my woes,
Like the frost against my clothes,
It did impose,
And so I chose.
Became untethered,
Severed
From all I'd treasured,
Revered.
Those lilting words which brought such pleasure,
Feathered,
Whose past now pains me beyond measure,
Fevered.
My silence;
My aggression towards their
Verbal violence
Forfeits those words at my leisure.
The kettle on the stove is singing,
The warning in the background, ringing.
One by one, the letters stringing,
Singly, softly, along behind.
We must enter into night
With our heads deep in our hands.
The lust central to the flight,
With our beds steeped in our demands.
And say I sleep,
Stay and keep...
Should I slip into the void,
Could I clip the two conjoined?
Would you replace me
Erasing
Gracefully
The echo of my name?
[Thanks to RevelPhoto for this wonderful image]
