I'd recently ended a week,
one much darker than most,
soaked in tremulous visions most would want to forget,
my mind a labyrinth of troubled butterflies with wet wings and too much space
yet no exit...
When
one evening I sat on a cliff of sadness holding my shadow's hand.
Serene and motionless
my shadow ran its darkness around my fingertips
slowly
lacing a dangerous caress
its two pale eyes hooded as full moons behind charcoal clouds
staring blinkless at endless questions
perched midair within a grasp at the edge of my cliff.
"Go ahead," I mumbled softly
And when at last it had its fill,
my neck a drained story,
I asked my sinister smiling shadow,
"what kept you so long?"
as I hung suspended for a beautiful moment
above tar black darkness,
my butterfly wings at last free to flee
slicing shadow from me,
moon from cloud.
No comments:
Post a Comment