Before the teal,
Of heavy rain,
A song did ring unclear.
But split and spatter,
In cracks and mounds,
Frayed the linen thin.
Struck against the bed at night,
A handgun held in envy,
Shatttered glass besides a mirror.
Just among the very leaves,
Tepid in a sunset morning,
The water seams the very dress.
Mouth did heal among the waves,
Strongest in real worry,
Greatest in raw fury.
Connected at last.
Mon 19th Apr 2021 07:26
I love that. Thank you!
Speak to me
For words are important to hear
Unsaid stories aren't moving easily
Creates ambiguity and confusions
Connections getting weak
Speak, speak, speak.
Just added a few lines, inspired reading your work. Good one.
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Alita Moore
Mon 16th Aug 2021 09:27
Speak to me,
for words are important to hear,
A bellow of the Hayward maiden.
Tongue through,
The daily reading,
eyes set down.
A crescent that's weaning,
Open mouth of child teething,
Tasting flesh of mother's meaning.
The sound I make,
A muttered clasp of hands in closet,
Else to mouth the things she's feeling.
Trapped inside a painful mourning,
Trying not to hear,
The life not worth living