doth thine eyes glisten like molten molasses
hands like spiders, my body silken webbing
hand in hand, the two of us stepping
down a cloud into a field of angels.
they aren't real.
you look at me. i can tell that you know, too.
this false ideal slithers 'round my throat
like an eel
mouth gaping
toothless lips bared
ripping gills in my neck anew,
dragging me back through evolution,
ocean dweller once more.
normally i'd protest. but knowing that it'll get you next
that wherever we go at least we'll be together
is it cruel that i'd willingly accept my exit?
it may be selfish. rain batters my helpless body like feathers
fallen from a bird, cloud residents watching
our dreary affair come to a close.
o the foolish pursuit of my heart screeches to a halt.
the eel, seeing this, chose to let you live.
exposed, alone.
YOU ARE READING
the archives - a poetry portfolio
PoesiaA light buzzing distracts you from whatever you're doing. There is an old, weathered monitor on a table next to you. You could have sworn that it had just *appeared* out of thin air. Out of curiosity, you stare at it for a moment. The screen flicke...
