Her connection

Her Connection

Today she saw a bird,

black-feathered, orange-beak it was

and next to it sat another

together on a fence.

She’d never had a best friend

So the pen became her therapist

as well as her mentor

She made the mint pages of a book,

her biggest patrons.

Her favourite blouse leaves a trail

of ox-blood and maroon.

She dazzled in her recent look

with a recycled version of her former drag.

Her shade is a tinted mural

of interrupted dreams she’ll dream again

but her favourite pants is a pair

of unresolved feeling she’s too scared to detach from.

On her face, you’ll notice a dent

the dissembled puzzle pieces of her past lovers.

The pages of her soul are dog-eared and ripped.

The beauty of her heart was lost in transition.

That’s why she likes to smoke tobacco

and watch the fumes dance off her skin.

She said I have to chose

between a burning city and a secluded mine

it’s not at all easy for me

because my soul burns like embers

and the earth eludes me

maybe I’ll walk to a reef

to let off steam and level my thoughts.

So She laid under the stars

made out familiar faces from the sky.

Her limbs grew warm

like a volcano was erupting inside her.

Her breath waned

like the universe was buried inside her.

She heard a wolf howl

As if it too was craving a real connection.

Then everything went still.

The waves stopped crashing.

The insects stopped mid-flight.

The seconds stopped ticking

At midnight, she was still.

Like a rose waiting to be plucked

until the ground swallowed her whole

and burped up her ashes.

… A rare tenuous connection

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.