Wordle #152

152

Your slack wicker heart snags

In the flesh of my squeezing fist.

A crush or an impendence?

Retaliation against a vague

And intolerable wind

A loveless need

Like the queer tendencies

Of attending ghosts.

A bottle of apple cider

Does not erase the wounded green

Of your stigmatical pulse.

I build cities in the dust

Of your retreating steps

Towers of imposing stature

With leathery strips of remorse.

If only I’d meet you

Before we began.

A fuss of furrows spoils

The integrity of my face.

Within me whole cities

Sprout and occupy

And you plop down

In a grieving mean,

Any closer and you’ll

Swallow me soul and all.

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7 responses to “Wordle #152

  1. I love that wicker heart! … And also these lines:

    “Like the queer tendencies
    Of attending ghosts.”

    “I build cities in the dust
    Of your retreating steps”

  2. The choice to squeeze the heart ot let it go – mercy or vindication. What does vindication really give us? a brief sense of justice and leaves us with emotiness.

    The last part of the city building within you is really cool – there is poem there, in and of itself.

  3. I love every line as always, but the first one–oh I wish I’d thought it first! Slack wicker heart–what a gem, might have to borrow it someday with a link back here…

  4. Pingback: Slack Island Life | POSTCARDS From PANACHE·

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