This ashen tongue…
It slithers through deceit
Like dreams of silk
Over the morning mist.
Your mouth tastes of promise;
It shimmers over mine
Until synapses burst
And blind, I cannot sift
Away the beauty from its lies.
An angel born of darkness;
Your dagger rooted in my spleen…
Around its icy blade I twist
Until my bowl bejewels yours
With tears of ruby warmth.
Yours is the serpent bite,
And mine… the rift.
Daily Prompt: Moved to Tears
Weekly Photo Challenge: Summer Lovin’
There is a gentleman artist in Scotland who has adorned his garden with numberless sculptures. Most are fashioned of driftwood rescued from the sea, but there are a few metal sculptures and it is one of these that I have chosen for this particular challenge.
Although something tells me that their iron love is bound to survive beyond the summer.
There are those who preach caution: infatuation is one thing, love – quite another. The first seduces the senses and blinds one to all but the object of their desire. For a time it is impossible to think of anything else, and yet such flighty passions will subside, and their object relinquished in search for another. Whereas love… as the bard would have it:
My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.
So I will throw caution to the wind and confess to being in love. I was caught before I had any idea that the affair had begun, and now there is no escape. If it were mere infatuation, its candle would’ve burnt out long before now. Yet here I am still, a writer adrift. The more I write, the more I love it. Seduced by the sinuous texture of words, by their music and subtlety, I journey into the realms of the imaginary. This boundless sea is my home.
Day Two: Say Your Name
Opaque… desire undisclosed;
An empty everydayness stalls,
Awaiting your return.
Caught in the shackles of your scent
In voiceless rain all dreams descend
Your absence to conceal.
Blissfully blinded to your faults,
Forgiven lips your touch exalts
And draped in colour, burn.
And when my eyelids blossom grief,
Their longing will caress in sleep
‘Till they unlearn to feel.
Daily Prompt: If I Could Turn Back Time
Our youth will pass
And our looks will wither.
We’ll discover that our wisdom
Was the confidence of fools,
That fame was fickle
And wealth coundn’t pay for happiness
Or bribe away all sickness.
Hearts will grow weary of passion,
Limbs will ache with dreams of paths un-tread,
And our eyes too often
Will be denied their sleep.
As our autumn distills into winter
We’ll forget to grieve
For those childish beginnings
When we surrendered, unafraid
And dared to be free,
Crazy in love.
Daily Prompt: She Drives Me Crazy
My lips have found a home
They linger in experimental substitution,
Searching out the alcove of your neck
Wherein a second heart subverts
All promise of a first.
Fingers stumble on the brink of an avalanche
Lost in the memory of a strawberry field
There lay unremembered the wind,
The chill of a morn that entranced our feet into dance.
There had been a smile,
A brow had knitted concerned
And gloves had gifted the warmth of your hands onto mine.
Your presence eclipsed all concerns.
A half-recollected reverie,
Our story translated on a screen black and white:
An undercurrent of fleeting moods,
Life’s certainties transmuted into chimerical objects,
And beliefs bathed away
In a covert upsurge of shadow and light,
Music and silence.
I kneeled at the feet of a not yet love,
Doomed to be haunted by its evanescence.
Daily Prompt: Good Fences?