The duplicity of witches

Cherry

By lavadis

Thu, 22 Nov 2018
  • 637 reads
1 comments
 
For my 35th birthday 
we lay in the shed at the bottom of the garden 
of our two by two
amongst a cornucopia
of rusting metallurgy. 
You wore your bridal veil 
and a Pollyanna smile 
your squeeze rinse hands 
mustering covertly 
in time, in time 
 
For the second anniversary 
of our forty third kiss
I was Otto Preminger 
directing Bonjour Tristesse 
and you were Jean Seberg.
We climbed the stairs 
through the dovecote hatch
bodies planished 
by a thousand wingtips,
hearts perseverating 
with decrepitude,
a thorn of diffracted sunlight 
illuminating
the predation of time 
 
On the night we fled from 
perdition 
abandoning our possessions 
in the Motel on the outskirts 
of Cassiopeia 
our faces disordered 
by entropy and fog rattle rain
I realised that we had 
always 
been running 
towards chaos  
and that this 
fingertip search 
for the remnants of joy 
after our catastrophic collision
had become
both our beginning 
and our end 
 

 

Certificate 12
Poem
Poetry
Fantasy

Comments

Submitted by Sim on

Cruel, isn't it, the way refracted sunlight illuminates the predation of time. But I love the way catastrophe and heartache give rise to your sublime poetry.

Sim