prompts: "vinyl and wine" "we watched the moon melt"
okay i really feel like i've read the first three lines of this somewhere... can't remember though. google's no help lmao
-----
you tied silver tinsel
around the full waist
of the moon,
hauling it closer
just so we can watch it melt
into the music
that burns, sets alight
the ancient bones
that have sunk
deep into the earth.
they remember
this, and only this—
the ivory cadenzas
that the glowing queen
has thrown
like silver coins
into the tin cup
of the night.
the world
splits and fractures
beneath her
immortal gaze
that remains
watchful, unrelenting.
you grip my still hand
as the past
resurfaces,
swept up by the rising tide
she has summoned,
bringing sins under spotlight.
i regret nothing.
vinyl and wine
and dances, darling.
let us dance,
our feet not as light
as they once were.
the sandpaper words
you keep beneath your tongue
are what my ears
strain to hear
as we step on each other's toes,
your french lavender perfume
clouding reason.
i want something of you
that isn't manufactured
for my mind,
isn't made to settle
amongst the gears and cogs,
metal and madness.
you handle me carefully,
lest you break what you think
is glass and shallows
and naïve sweetness.
but who knew sandpaper words
once stolen
would be shoved down
my own throat,
forced to swallow
before i understand.
from your loosened tongue
drips words
of arsenic.
(i wish i sipped this poison
from burning tea
and not your lips, perfectly glossed.)
you say i lack in depth,
that my stone well
runs dry
when yours brims
with what you call magic
and cerulean roses
that bring out your eyes
faded with time
(into this picnic-blanket blue,
spring skies at dawn,
when you want
deep, blinding oceans,
mid-afternoon desert heat
and a boiled sky
only you can cool),
heavy thorns that replicate
the refined sharpness
of your nails
that won't recede
like a cat's would.
i have no vision, either,
but here i watch
as the moon
collides with your heart
after you've drawn it
too close,
dazzled by what you thought
you deserved.
love,
mari
YOU ARE READING
for the tarnished hearts
Poetrypoetry for the hearts tarnished by love or the sudden death of it. for the hearts that find a soft lullaby in the pages when raw hope is not enough to put the worries to sleep. for the hearts that bleed ink to paint the chalky roses of life red with...