A Foreign Language

Our curse is pebbled in years, rolling

Away from the valley of riding

For too long, too fast. 

Our lustre clenched in the tide

Of a giddy child, solemnly

Smoking on dead fumes.

Today I saw a blind widow bite 

Onto gravestones of marble and granite, and flinch

When her son's name came off in her fingers.

Tomorrow I will see a blind widow 

Elucidating the shadows we all believed too

Righteous to ever knock on our doors.

This is how we say life. So-ro-row. 

Like a gannet's hurling tongue, a throaty 

Haunt at the back of a gnat's throat

Blood running silver like lives for pennies,

Rich, bitter, bitter, rich. And read it like you were taught the alphabet, 

Back-to-front, like the human spine

If God had a will He would've brought it to Earth by now.

Instead, we are a daunting dream, compassing his

Extra time, the clock-hands waving compulsory

To the mandatory man. Yesterday I saw the widow

Dream, and time revolted in and out upon itself

And the human throat buzzed it's final cry

Today, we see the fly's tongue grown crochet onto the window

Pane, saying it's sorries, saying it's goodbyes. Zeus looked down in spite and

Flashed his might, and his foot, his foot!

Tomorrow. Tomo-ro-row. 

Like a human last breath, like a mammal last fear.

The human carcass vacates it's solemn shell. All is well. 

Author's Note

As always, I only want help to improve.. any advice, any tips, or if you liked it, Hell, my ego could do with fluffing up! There are so few people willing to spare a few minutes of their day to help, so I appreciate anything you may be willing to give. Even if you hated it, I mean -- it took time. And that's maybe the nicest thing you could give me, in any variant!

--Ophelia //
Abbey