- poem 3, spring 2022 - September 21, 2022
- sestina 1, spring 2022 - September 21, 2022
- poem 2, spring 2022 - September 21, 2022
Passing early, the mirror catches eyes
The tide whisks and I cannot refrain
Slow approaches, dainty steps and lies
Simple visions, do they not contain
The perfect meaning? My heart is beating
Faster as my reflected figure dies
Invisible hope on fingertips dies
A couple of rapidly flitting eyes
Shoulders cannot take the beating
Rounded nails surpassing, should refrain;
There comes a point where even I contain
But given that, my image whispers lies
Upon the freckles an untold story lies
Even when their scarlet reverend dies
Fables every raindrop does contain
Dripping from those muddy hazel eyes
Is an homage, for tears do refrain
From giving yet another purple beating
As the figure dwindles, I am beating
The highest score of my old slew of lies
I tell myself that good girls can refrain,
The flicker of arrival simply dies
On impact, for those forest colored eyes
See far too many haunts they must contain
That is my job, above all else, contain
The sordid tale upon which putrid beating
Finds solace in my familiar eyes
The same ones who cannot close, but lies
Creep into my body as it dies
For the end is when my fingertips refrain
I suppose this is a long, unjust refrain
Referring to a thing most can contain
My life as it was here, so freshly dies
Reflections now show only the soft beating
Of my heart, not free entirely of lies
But reflections show that of hungry eyes
My healing heart cannot refrain from beating
Its bloody rhythms cleanse my former lies
My body never dies, but for the eyes.
a really great poem, well done! I enjoyed it! <3