Photo Challenge #65 and Wordle #167 “Runaway”

Zwobel Sad Girl

Zwobel

Her unseamed flesh suggests neither

Fall nor insurgence but a sorrow

More prolific and pandemic than grain.

The dirty halo of her ancestors afflicts

Not through acquisition but through attachment.

A slavering of words unfit for a child’s ear,

A slavering of fists unfit for a child’s possession.

They’ve pierced her heart, worms

In the apple of eyes too blind to glint.

A key scratching door after door

In hopes of reconciling the fit.

There are no players in this game

No levels and no present moments

Worth the labor of acquisition.

Her mind approaches the air

Drinking in each passage, each tornado

As if it were a fever, a phase

In the consistency of consciousness.

Her red shoes splinter the ground

On which they rest, the unseen dervish

The mangled bike in search of vagrancy.

Her dress woven of snow-white cotton

Does not chance upon the sun

But on the slow and singular articulations

Of a moon half-risen and slightly strained.

*

For

https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2015/06/16/photo-challenge-65-sadness-june-16-2015/

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33 responses to “Photo Challenge #65 and Wordle #167 “Runaway”

  1. Man, I thought that first stanza packed the most punch, and then I spilled down to here:
    “Of a moon half-risen and slightly strained.”

    Now that’s just a fantastic, wish-I’d-written-it line right there.

  2. The second stanza is dense with story. The acquisition and attachment, the words and fists. I like the allusion of gaming, being no levels, no points earned.

  3. “A slavering of words unfit for a child’s ear,

    A slavering of fists unfit for a child’s possession.”

    Reminds me of all the loud arguments I witnessed as a child – thought they rarely came to fists… there was too much dirt slung.

  4. The dirty halo of her ancestors afflicts / Not through acquisition but through attachment. / A slavering of words unfit for a child’s ear, / A slavering of fists unfit for a child’s possession.

    Pregnant with meanings and potentials that are deeply troubling and disturbing – but in this moment, exceedingly well written – as is the piece Yves 🙂

  5. ‘Her unseamed flesh’ starting the dark story, so troublesome, with such distraction, gets some resolution with moon ‘half-risen and slightly strained’…contrast to present strangely peaceful indifference…. ~ masterfully written.

  6. Every line held weight here and I’m not sure if I can pick a favorite from the lot. Perhaps, “the mangled bike in search of vagrancy,” just wonderful! Thanks so much for sharing!

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