you are a
forgotten verdict
the familiar place
for a pessimist
you fondle our
dissonance
like a naked talisman
my lexis bent in your
hand
left against my teeth
echoes from dusty
rooms
that I am worthless
and weary
we sweep up the glass
ruins in incoherent
fragments
the years writhe
into idioms
as I drive against
the wind
© 11.25.2014
heather brager
The leaving days always have one thing in common, that we wish we had gone one day sooner.
ReplyDeleteA left against your teeth? Tell me this is fiction. Because I felt it, all over again, just like it happened. Then thinking it may have happened to you made me feel it in the solar plexus. Excellent poem, Heather. Your gift just keeps getting stronger.
ReplyDelete... you know I speak in metaphors, similes and idioms...
ReplyDelete