deftly she withers


in the end
we stood naked
pale in comparison
to the flesh of martyrs
thriving on their mortality
once-removed, a tragic angst
threatened to bury in the sand
our spiritual androgyny, our failed
tranquillity, prevalent by the onset of
nightfall when our firefly tails could light
the way for comets, the universe of ethereal
duality being our very nature, bathed in polymers
nescient to the marrow of an emotional static hush
that blew like wind in fervent whispers and solemn thrusts
gashed our cheeks, cleaving flesh to the bone, a brush with death
notwithstanding, almost insinuated how beautiful the world never was
because of our presence on its beloved visage, a tarnished physiognomy
we have suffered, like martyrs thriving on their mortality, a thousand false
pretenses, a million synthetic lovers, a billion artificial kin she bore, the queen
bee swallowed in the aftermath, a nuclear proclivity made her way of life archaic
a natural progression of decline, unfeeling for the nervous system disconnected itself
again, overwhelmed by pain it pulled the ripcord, swept the rug out from under our feet
while drugged into a comatose mischief we stood, heartily waiting for the end to manifest
its candid oblivion in viands of bread and wine, for each of us to ingest a poison so lethal
it could kill death, until purged of humanity we remained, naked and unborn, a fetus so
forlorn, as the theory of ‘we’ became the reality of ‘i’, it was i who i was and we who we
were no longer, my breath made skin, my thoughts made flesh, my love made bone
the color of harmony painted me a whiter shade of ivory, nevermore to be so
eclipsed by the darkness of my past, an existence so bleached by melancholy
pandemonium, fragile at the seams and frail in my needs, thus, i made the
effort to sew each thread more tightly, spin each web more precisely
paint in every detail of my being so that the end would be repeated
never again, so statuesque in posture and stately in manner
would i remain, but for during the autumn years, for the
rebirth of my beloved queen bee, wrapped majestically
in her shimmering dress of silver, an avatar out
of time, a myth but for my love, a nymph without
the need for wings i had once believed, she
knelt down at my bedside where i lay
stricken with fancy, kissed my hands
and, to my disheartenment, said
her goodbyes, shallow wisps of
cacophony against the echo of
her subtle voice, i remember
how much i miss her as the
memory of her, divine
withers away
in the end




<< | notes | index | >>