Wordle #260

260

I sweep your boiling shadows
into my fury, into shrunken parks
with swarms of confectionery crows
and chain-link fences far as the eye can see.

I watch you shimmering,
ripping me open like a wound.
My blood rises to meet
your kiss, black with exertion
and the deceptions
I have been made to swallow.

I have such terrible dreams,
such terrible inclinations.
I turn and turn,
but for every passage
there is another wall
twice as thick.

Your eyes search me as a storm
stripping me of everything
save my crucifixions.

I watch you rippling
your careless eruptions
castrating my silence.

What is this illness
that shores me up
and plucks the sutures
from my seams?
Is this love?

Who is this woman-
her features pleated as a lampshade-
peering past every reflection?
Is she the avatar
of a querulous soul?
Is she me sick with excuses?

Advertisements

16 responses to “Wordle #260

  1. Oh my, so many good phrases of course; my fave pics are : “Confectionery crows” and “woman–her features pleated as a lampshade peering past….”–WOW-Amazing!!

  2. Pingback: My Own Van Gogh | LINES of SHADEAU·

  3. So many relatable…haunting and gut wrenching images and yet your end line seems to ‘answer’ all – but how to move on from those excuses..perhaps that takes many a year?

  4. “into shrunken parks
    with swarms of confectionery crows” … Oh, how I love this.

    Also this:
    “I watch you shimmering,
    ripping me open like a wound.”

    “My blood rises to met” … Did you mean to say “meet” here?

    “What is this illness
    that shores me up
    and plucks the sutures” … Perfect.

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