Tag Archives: romance

22 April

Within the window panes
I spelt the name
The name of near ones
Dear
And the fog of breath rained
Away the lines of forced fate
And I, alone with reason errant
dwelt, accepted the form of
Shadows that blighted this
Moment of late.

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An apology:

Make dirty a page of new.
My own design, my own to choose.
I know it’s a sin, it’s a wrong
to do. To bring the past upon a
page so new. There are no
conjunctions, there is no hope
of Christ redeem. There is none
of that when white becomes
unclean.

The fault is mine, all here
agree clear. The burden
of resurrection is one
that Pontius could understand.

The sin of woman outmatches
sin of man.

Wounds well sutured still
tear in time.

I don’t care to believe this,
the way I am.

But to die, to be true – the
larks of jealous tone colour
my name and actions of all.

To try my triumph,
to fail my past.

To colour anything so darling is
skill,
sharpened with my own mouth’s axe.

No beloved have I!

No beloved have I!
And as of late, I can’t
think of a reason why
to sacrifice heart,
body, and life
for another of
my kind.

No beloved have I,
no break of heart
caused by bereaved
strife.

A spinster’s life
at twenty-five.
Well who’s to
mind my unpartnered
side?

Not me, not et
only when the blue
moon rises do
battle of wills
versus
expectations
arise.

But made-up mind
while I make my bed.

Another day resolved
another day solely
mine.

The Tale of the Girl with No Name

‘I am the girl with no name,’ she cried out with a cheer.
Parades stood transfixed, ears willing to hear.
‘I am the girl with no name at all,’
She decreed with a bow and accompanying song.

All her life she
thought she knew what she was called.
A name like a flower which grew since before her,
twisted and twined around the body so small.
Talled as she talled, grew wide when her hips did too.

The name she thought,
still grew and breathed, always above her,
always sighted out-of-reach.
Watered and loved, no blemish to name,
soon preceded the distance which the girl
flew.

But then she met a boy with a beautiful name,
that tasted so pure, that tasted so good as her
lips grew the word stronger and lovelier each day –

And for a year more, he never used the girl’s name.
It all was a lie, the word she thought she knew.
There had never been a name, she was just only a ‘you’.

She accepted the bend of her flawed know-all,
perhaps, after all, she remembered,
it were weeds that grew too.

She accepted his knowledge as superior to her
own – for he told her things only a lovely named-boy
could know.

‘I am the girl with no name.’
They cheered and they twirled.
‘I had no name at all,
not one, three, or two.’

A Song of Sorrow

A song of sorrow,
simple, that you’re not with me.
And yet, perhaps, the fault is mine because
your name always comes first in line.

This isn’t what I wanted, I didn’t know how,
how to allow myself to ask for what I dreamt
so close.

When I saved all my bad words to serve
as a first to yours,
they dissolved as sugar in water in a swift
kiss.

But was it you or I that stirred it first?