I feel the echo of each missed step, the dust of every road not taken as I am steady.
You see.
I hear the tears unshed rattle in my breast; I taste nothing of far night airs as I am stoic, predictable.
You see.
I'm building up tall, no bend at my knees, no roll of my shoulders, no heart beats high enough to cause either alarm or release.
You see.
Only the vinegar of a steady and stoic poison, marinating, pickling, so I'll last through the winter while the others bloom brightly and fall off the vine.
YOU ARE READING
Lavender and Leather
PoetryComplete: Sixteen short poems if you like interesting words or if you just like to think about love, lust and operating on your exes in a surgery hall. Don't worry - it's just a metaphor. So: Let's disappear together In the universe you're making; I...
