Wordle #292 and #293


With the abyss glaring intently
from a sea of thorns
I dare not follow you.
A kiss sustained and unpalatable
sinks its velvety fangs in me.
I stammer out of reach,
my cowardice, my shame
as resilient as sunshine.
The primal need to persevere alone
when love would only rip asunder.

My garden has no secrets,
death lives in plain sight
and only lifeless things rejoice in me.
Why do you continue to stew
in the residuals of my touch?
My shadow is only smoke,
a touch unfathomable and incomplete.
This is all that I can offer.

Months pass and you persist,
virulent and fiercely unmanageable.
How long with you wait?
There is not a drop of sweetness left in me
the bees have taken it all
and so much more.
My once red heart sits idle,
a cask of fire and gristle,
foothills in an autumnal slumber.

I have always hated basements,
the kind with no eyes
and a damp pendulous sneer;
a place where curiosity gives rise to taboo.
In time you’ll furnish me
with an appropriate excuse
or else I’ll invent one
meanwhile avoidance serves
a worthy anodyne.