Paled by Sunday SunA Poem by KristalloI thought I missed you. The mobile eccentricities, those slender artist's hands a dry-brush to cheapen my face with discount acrylic lugubriosity ... I made my bed... with layered velvet sheets of midnight stained in the ghosts of former lovers- dried up wishes. You're raven's caw- Defiled the moonlight vista the swathe of dusty bee-sting words spilling from lips wet with infamy, how I mesmerized each crack and tinge Paled by a thousand Sunday suns and brittled like corn shucks on a hollow afternoon. the grafitti on my bones is a constant ghost dripping mad cursive from your song my shadow dismal enough to turn a tide- in this moment pregnant with punishment and stillborn sighs I looked through that veil of star dust in your gaze I looked until the brush of time would paint the face of demons to mark this day The next time I saw you, I drown swallowed by the white undertow of your crisp and techno fallacies In still life moments such as these, we'd lose ourselves. Comical- those days we were so young. Brazen corn flower skies would smile as we talked Bowie and argued Sartre- washing it all down with sunshine-tinctured shards of mosaic. In those days, I knew little and passioned your touch In those days, I swam- in oceans vibrant with lucidity while you showered in alkali dust and sang from that black hole of a heart. In those days, I never knew; my passions' a world apart. © 2016 KristalloAuthor's Note
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Added on August 2, 2012Last Updated on October 27, 2016 AuthorKristalloDenton, TXAboutI found I could say things with color and shapes that I couldn't say any other way - things I had no words for. Georgia O'Keeffe All paid jobs absorb and degrade the mind. -Aristotle Th.. more..Writing
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