Silver and Saffron

Challenge: Write a poem inspired by a spice. (I chose "saffron.")

I must be clear:

He never touched me

In ways I did not let him.

Yet it always seemed that

He would leave me crushed

And crying out (on the inside)

For him to stop.

His lips would brush mine

In ways that felt forbidden, stolen -

Taken from me unwillingly,

Though I always returned them

However hesitatingly.

Even his hand upon mine

Felt wrong and made me

Weak, ashamed, but…

I never took my hand away.

The red dress in the corner

Was thrown there with reluctance,

But I had never truly protested

Or fought its placement there.

Surely, by not fighting, I said yes?

He gave me silver jewelry,

And acted like a gentleman,

Clasping every necklace for me,

But they hung like nooses.

When he left, I could see

Crushed saffron in his footsteps,

Broken petals who lost their voices

A long time ago.

Author's Note

Picture: http://ictenbey.deviantart.com/art/SILENCE-69243859

Reviews

[Antonio Valentino]

Footsteps of safron? Wow, does he know how much that stuff costs? :)

Like the exotic spice that went to waste, so did the redolence and zest of his mistreated mate. Precious herbs, and savories just like piquant paramours in our lives are delicate, and need to be handled with respect, and a gentle touch.

Being a chef I thought this poem was going to about the actual spice, nevertheless, I wasn't disappointed by the least bit. You're poem was seasoned just right, and simmered to perfection.

Loved it!
Antonio

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

man..what a beautiful poem. The images are in HD.
I enjoyed the point that a lack of resistance can be
consent. You give the reader a few things to think about.
Great work.

[You Don't Know Me]

Wow, I just loved the execution, the message, and the tragic story. I'm really intrigued by this. Adding to favorites.

[James Paulin]

Remarkably insightful, this poem exposes both sides of decision and subsequent consequences. I thought the message and the form were complimentary and expressed superbly.

[bluessadmood]

Oh how love would drive us to act like slaves..having no will of us at all..
his lips stopped on mine,in a forbidden and stolen way,i was unwilling but returned them
even the hands upon mine something felt shameful but never took them away
the jewlery he placed on my neck and wrists hang like nooses but i never complained
then as he walk ,i felt crushed in his steps..and my voices all lost..ohh he had you mesmerized
such a control..full control love could take on us..i really loved this
lovely write..