It was your love
That rattled his teeth
Like small stones, shifting in the sea.
It was your love
Shocked open his eyes
And took him trembling back to your door.
It drew him out
His frail bones
A frame for his billowed shirt sail.
Your love
To see him again
Imagining some equal to memories.
Your love.
Your selfish love.
And now he's here with his stench
And his clenched vile mouth.
His broken hands offering to caress.
A mess of emaciated skin that barely clings
To his grit filled nails. He brings close
Loose teeth to your naked ear as he expels
Whispers with his swollen, dry tongue.
His lungs croak and bubble.
It's what you asked for.
Comments
Caldwell | June 11, 2008 - 21:34
Yeats' Those Dancing Days Are Gone crossed with W.W. Jacobs' The Monkey's Paw
Caldwell | June 11, 2008 - 21:43
Last line removed, thanks.
P.s.
I think you meant 'hear'.
jennifer | June 11, 2008 - 21:56
This is disturbing in the extreme.
I really like the imagery of the opening stanza:
'It was your love
That rattled his teeth
Like small stones, shifting in the sea'
You can see it AND hear it and the THOUGHT of it makes your own teeth rattle!
p.s. I think the last line is unnecessary.
jennifer | June 11, 2008 - 21:57
I'm going to bed! two typos in one evening...how will Witch Bitch, perfectionist that she is, ever live it down?! (and yes I have corrected it!)
I zink I 'av created a monster!
Dynamaso | June 12, 2008 - 01:05
This is creepy and sweet and thoroughly enjoyable.
'He brings close
Loose teeth to your naked ear as he expels
Whispers with his swollen, dry tongue.'
I can see this image in my mind (and almost smell the breath). Very well done indeed.
sunshine | June 12, 2008 - 16:21
eeek. Very good. I do like poems which draw a strong reaction.