Wordle #88

Week 88

I dredge your empyreal veins,
a bloodcrow tracking the progression
of a war in which he takes no part.
I draw your whalebone corset tighter,
like nails on slate the air reaches up
from your pinched apertures shrieking.

I dread the day when the fanatics
throw their gasping red paints
across our apathetic shoulders
in inexplicable acts of protest.
I dread the day when our love
hardens into a monument.

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14 responses to “Wordle #88

  1. Pingback: Liquid Ruby | Two Paise Poems·

  2. I have never worn a corset but your description of the lacing is evocative of the excruciating ordeal it must be. 🙂 Like the others I thought the last line had the wow factor.

  3. Really interesting and adept use of the wordle … you paint such a deeply pinched, tight and painful experience (heh, couldn’t help the referencing to corset) …. and it shimmers in red …. blood. I swear I have this fantastical pseudo nightmarish image dancing in my head …. perhaps it’s also because of the “crow wordle form” and the words – especially bloodcrow and vein ….. at any rate … astounding … my head is filled with blood dripping in streams over my eyes and face …. but I am not afraid.

  4. Sometimes I think human kind is in a corset of its’ own making and
    all that will be left is a monument that will be misunderstood by those who see it. This piece to me is reflective of all the warring that claims to be civil, but yet is not civil at all.

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