Wordle 205

204Brenda Warren

The red door

Stands ajar

As if it were a novel

And the inhabitants

Unintelligible

Without predecessor

Loiter listlessly

In my absence

Each wishing to exist

And I unable to deal

That life-giving breath.

There are no mail slots,

No windows dimmed or otherwise

Just closet after closet

Into which my personas

Are posthumously cast.

I twiddle my keys

But the grinning locks

Have their own teeth,

Their own defiance.

The three-pentacled star

That can no longer beget

Winks at me from behind

Billowing eyelashes

And one by one

All those sacred wishes

Rush out energetically

Like ovulating salmon.

I sit back to the wall

Singing to the sun’s fiery sister

Without pack or pact

I cannot repair

What has been lost.

I write as if the paper

Were gauze

And the ink ointment,

But I never heal.

Mediocrity is always astounding

For all my efforts

I still suffer the limitations

Of my craft,

Some days the words

Do not add up at all

Even though

I have delivered them

Ribboned in my blood.

For

banner

Advertisements

8 responses to “Wordle 205

  1. I write as if the paper / Were gauze / And the ink ointment, / But I never heal.

    Stunning and poignant. XD

    I love the whole scenario you’ve created Yves – the red door the house, looking in – all the details so fine fashioned – super! 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s