Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Dirty Gossamer

the color of wonder was a wayward snowflake 
escaping through a crude windowpane
whimsical magic in a child's hands

heaven was tattooed on your thoughts
laced with lavender and a belt of moonshine

you would see your children at dawn 
after your joy ride through cold dark
and stars

winter would be a lion
but you still had time
it was autumn yet

your love that used to ride the train
to meet you would retreat into a moonless
world and the sun would become a ghost
you would be missed more than she loved
her children

your love would starve
and keep company with midnight
intoxicated with the memory 
of the year you first met
without your love to satisfy her
lust or loneliness
hopelessness would settle into her
and her cotton dresses were a manuscript
of the way you once broke through to the
sweetness underneath

weeping to the sound of night rain
on her roof
her employment is to keep your memory
alive
she'll forget the color of the sky
rock herself to sleep 
for you won't be there
she'll be sleepless in a red kingdom
and mourn with your old whiskey bottle
because it too craves your lips 

copyright May 2016   Vanessa Peterson

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