Fatality of a Promise
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my notions float with sinuous breaths
tumbling upon creased pillows
while early dawn traces the nearing
crossroad between flawless noon
and inked twilight... yes, soon,
he will arrive granting me this balm
of solace, that which barren cycles
have untangled spousal harmony through
fractures and blood of a battlefield...
but destiny is not perfect, not when
letters take shape of a raven's beak
screeching this morning about fatality:
how incisive is the thorn of disclosure,
aching from a thwarted pact as
mornings of life will now stop rotating,
wheeling, unfolding in a pace where
I honor his dignity...without twilights,
without me.
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The Promise Contest for Silent One
6/3/2020
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2020
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