Crashing into the deep grave,
she lies in wait.
He walks away retreating
into an empty cave
hovering over her, like
a weighty shadow.
The mounds of caress ache and moan.
Covering up her daggers of lightning, frightening
the stranger.
He breaks into a run.
He follows into the infinite
wailing wretchedness
evading the wonders
of the tranquil breathing darkness.
Ice waters,
chill air,
he sinks, slipping away
with pallid streaks across his face.
He can see this girl.
He can still feel the panic in her eyes
screaming from within.
He can almost touch the fear.
In the tattered fabric of
the rip-filled smoky gleam of yesterday,
his laughter penetrates through
reopening wounds.
The purple scenery blushes.
She twists his mouth into
an abandonment forgotten in the
cackle of day parades.
He’s fallen far into the ditch.
Tossed aside, she swallows.
The cancer peels at his fingers.
The cyanide eats into his hairs,
singeing the lashes of his face.
***
Olvia is a
well-intentioned amateur writer;
she recently became a fulltime
homemaker devoting herself fully to the writing craft. Her poems have
been published in her high school’s Literary Folio.
homemaker devoting herself fully to the writing craft. Her poems have
been published in her high school’s Literary Folio.
