Locket of Her

Behold a lovely man; burdened with her locket. It was a secret chamber, imprisoned with unfulfilled desires, holding filaments of his woman. An eyelash collected by the undercurrent of lymphatic tears, a clipped fingernail, the balm off her lips. Remnants of her, wrapped within the pheromone of wet Spring.

Consumed he was....deep in oppressive thought. Opening the locket, he brushes his cheek with a snippet of her saffron hair. Sigh....he ached for her so. Resting against the tree that neighbored him, he could feel the light of the moon, as he suffers in silence.

The night woos him with a lullaby....

Alas, someone was observing him.  Dark Goddess was loving his heartbreak. She felt the loneliness too. And she watched, as the wet mossy ground began to swallow his shoe...and her dark matter filled his consciousness.

Opportunity path-ed a way for this malevolent Goddess to make her move. So she began speaking to him; her words conjured up a black magic laced with bad intentions.

        "Bury her," the voice kissed in his ear.

He looked down at the muddy realm below that was sinking beneath his weight. It marked the spot for desecration, and burial of a missed soul.

         "Hurry," she said.
         "Before the sun is awake!"

Down on soiled hands and knees, he buries the locket. Filling the hole back up with a mixture of rocks, clay, and grassy sod. Dark Goddess was pleased. But before he could rise; she tripped him. Sweeping him off of his feet, as his head crashed against the trunk of the tree. A branch gutted his flesh, unwrapping him to the bone. His life poured...

Dark Goddess and Earth opened their mouths to savor the moment. He tasted so pure...full of nourishment, life was ready to bloom.

The morning approaches.

Dawn grabs onto the pink fingertips that try to penetrate through.  Breaking free of the earthly womb, a flowering female sprouts open.  Wiping the dirt from her face, she shakes her saffron hair. The bright sun and zealous air feels good to her. She blinks her newborn eyes.

Her flesh is real, yet she feels an emptiness.  The wind blows what feels like warm breath on on the back of her neck...dewy petals caressing her skin....it reminded her of something.....HIM.

Confused and forsaken-ed, she looks around for her lover......

Reviews

[VennelaMargame]

Hmm, one thing that jumps out at me is the possible Odyssey reference with "dawn grabs onto the pink fingertips...." reminding me of Homer's line, usually translated as "young dawn with fingertips of rose." Did you have Greek on the mind when you wrote this?

Hmm, I have to wonder, is the lover Twilight, separated from his paramour dawn by the jealous Night, who loves coming between them?

Also, the bit about "bury her" reminded me a bit of Porphyria's Lover, about trying to preserve a lover in a perfect moment of beauty through death.

So, I'll say that I enjoyed this because it was evocative of many things for me. Nice writing.

Namaste, Muse.

[Muse]

thank you...there is an ending, but it requires reading two more chapters. It's a morbid love story, so don't hold your breath.

[VennelaMargame]

I was gandering right now...let you know my thoughts soon.

[Divinity Sleeps in This]

I think fiction has made your poetry just more melodically all-encompassing. This for instance, could have been written by one of our Brits. And when you write like a Brit Muse, your poetry-world is your oyster.

[Neva Flores Smith - Cha..]

a vicious cycle perhaps? Now she will bury him and so on.......wondrous!

[patricia]

This is one of those writings that leaves the reviewer at a loss for words, or in a vain attempt to express them sounding silly...The italics and the voice of this were soft, mystical...the prose...beautiful...the flow...incredible..the theme...twisted, surprising and wonderful. Nature and you are one my friend. Ecstatic. Thankyou.

[Chris Yip]

Thanks for a lovely poetic story, so refined and deep at the same time. Well told and full of mystery and ambiance of the mythical world. A story similar to the likes of Romeo and Juliet, tragic. Nice old fashioned style of presentation that suits the storyline. Well done again. You nailed it again.

[Jordan's Back]

Jesus Christ, This was very romantic and utterly sensational!!!!!!!!

[Raven Starhawk]

This is so brilliantly composed. I am in complete awe. Actually I admit I am a bit jealous of your skill. I could only dream to write as flawlessly as this.

[Patient Poet (Yos)]

WOW !!! One of the most beautiful Romantic Poem I read in a very long time ... Powerful but so tender ... I really love this one ... you described what most of lovers experience ... longing for love ...loneliness ...searching gore careness and comfort and finally finding love.. finding safe place of comfort
Thank you for your words x

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

The story reminded me of a time capsule in some ways. To me it felt like a clue of how it the feelings would last forever. This was a bit gothic...a bit fantasy, but 100% enjoyable. I loved it.

[*~*Butterfly Kisses*~*]

Almost like a dark and macabre-tale of Romeo and Juliet. This was an amazing and truly captivating tale. Awesome write!

Nicely done.

[R J Askew]

This is marvellously macabre, dark yet uplifting also. I esp like 'burdened with her locket'. The eyelash and chipped fingernail are wonderful dabs of detail. People always hit on tears, but the eyelash moves things on, scores more points. The word 'Remnants' is strong as it captures what is going on. She is dead in some way.
Consumed/oppressed/suffered are all strong, too. And the setting with the tree and the moon spring the whole poem out of the walking-around-world into a more natural space. I am getting strong notes of gothik. Ach, and then the night! Yes. That one liner is really strong, The first two verses have set us up for the song of the night. We are into pure darkness now. The dark Goddess verse is very active, dramtic. The ground swallowing him hints of death. The malevolence takes the whole lower, lower. 'Muddy realm' is cracking wording. The trip is a touch of gratuitous evil. It is as if the witness to the deed can't survive to tell. 'Unwrapping him to the bone' is brilliant wording. This man is doomed. 'His life poured' is ambivalent, with erotic undertoness. is this the fate of men? Yet he is instrumental in producing a new birth, something beautiful, new. Is this how life is in its ways? The word 'Confused' at the very end in a way captures how we all are about life, death, rebirth and our part in it. If you think of reproducing something beautiful in the knowledge that it as well as us will die and return to the dark of oblivion it is a strange thought. But we do it, on and on, as the force is stronger than the death force. Phew! My favourite aspect of the read was the dabs mentioned above.