clink
something borrowed
something blue
and along the curve
of my thigh
the staccato of needles
forms the indistinct
letters of your name
in an irreconcilable tattoo
"This is for us"
you say with a half-smile
"A symbol of our love"
and then with an emboldened half-grimace-laugh
"You can never leave me now"
finishing as if to add emphasis
"You must never leave me ever"
clink
the wedding guests tap
silverware against fluted cut-like-crystal glasses
and in the din
you raise me from my loathing
and press your hot wax lips to mine
to seal the envelope of time forever
the dawn surfaces
in the arc of a dolphin
out of the hoary cold waves
skips a heartbeat from under my breast
and lands in the sudden certainty
that what is unfolding is not what i wanted
that what i vowed would be will never be
the ring sours on my finger
cuts at the knuckle
and gangrenes the surrounding skin
with the poison of indiscreet promises
i have become the shadow of secrets
living in temporary romances with faceless lovers
who offer the comfort of mystery and nothing more
clink
the gold-strung key-to-your-heart spins the lock
that seals the prison door of your ever-watchful eyes
and traps me behind encrusted iron bars
that divide me from the other-where
and leave me in a half-light
silently waiting to break free
something blue
and along the curve
of my thigh
the staccato of needles
forms the indistinct
letters of your name
in an irreconcilable tattoo
"This is for us"
you say with a half-smile
"A symbol of our love"
and then with an emboldened half-grimace-laugh
"You can never leave me now"
finishing as if to add emphasis
"You must never leave me ever"
clink
the wedding guests tap
silverware against fluted cut-like-crystal glasses
and in the din
you raise me from my loathing
and press your hot wax lips to mine
to seal the envelope of time forever
the dawn surfaces
in the arc of a dolphin
out of the hoary cold waves
skips a heartbeat from under my breast
and lands in the sudden certainty
that what is unfolding is not what i wanted
that what i vowed would be will never be
the ring sours on my finger
cuts at the knuckle
and gangrenes the surrounding skin
with the poison of indiscreet promises
i have become the shadow of secrets
living in temporary romances with faceless lovers
who offer the comfort of mystery and nothing more
clink
the gold-strung key-to-your-heart spins the lock
that seals the prison door of your ever-watchful eyes
and traps me behind encrusted iron bars
that divide me from the other-where
and leave me in a half-light
silently waiting to break free
Brilliantly expressed ... your words give life to that suffocating ... emotional drain ~smile~ ... I guess ... Happiness comes from within and if things are not happy within ... then its time to move on ... without ....
ReplyDeleteGreat read ... and I love that song .....
Writing from the woman's point of view was challenging ... I'm glad you liked the song ... I fussed over my choice for over an hour ... my OCD must have kicked in ... ;o}
Delete... now that is an interesting concept ... which now has me pondering the possibility, that perhaps emotions do have differences depending upon gender... or do we just think they do?... Mmmm ... food for thought!! I have been re reading this brilliant piece for over an hour now ... with a slighty enquiring ... analytical ... sort of eye ... but all that I have achieved is brain exhaustion!!! ...
DeleteYour hour of fussing for that song is clearly understandable!!! Brilliant .... love it!
Taking a break always helps ... yes ... there is a difference between men and women and how they express the same emotion. So in other words ... the emotion is probably the same for both ... but the way they express the emotion is most certainly a gender thing .... so well done to you!!!!
DeleteHey ... not just a pretty face ... haha ...
DeleteI believe we all engage in projection, when those transitory things, which we exalted and on which we counted to give us happiness, do not come through for us. We do so even though we now know that these were destined from the beginning not to last, and that our god and hoped-for reality, which we created for ourselves, was no more than an untenable illusion on which we gambled all our happiness.
ReplyDelete~Manfred
How true ... the moral may be "You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run ..."
DeleteSomething like that ...
The imagery of this poem is quite beautiful; however, it is a sad poem. I think it's important to remember why we love another person, and if the love doesn't last, to grieve the loss while staying mindful of the good that was brought to one another. To stay stuck in the misery is unhealthy, and oftentimes makes it impossible to move forward and love, once again. I suppose there are those who enjoy being miserable more than they enjoy being happy. That, to me, is the true tragedy.
ReplyDeleteRe-reading the poem, I guess I should have hinted at a motive for the woman's misery ... she probably had a motive, but I have no idea now what it might have been ... maybe just the fact that she's a woman ...???
DeletePerhaps you should allow your readers to decide if there was a motive. I realize that you wrote the poem from a woman's point of view; however, I read it as if I were a man. Motives aren't gender specific ... or are they? Either way, I hope this poem is included in your book.
Delete"Motives aren't gender specific ... or are they?"
DeleteI've come to believe that, if we, male and female, had ever known how really alike we are to one another, we would never have become as attracted to one another as we have.
~Manfred