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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required "Fatal Attraction" The letter was typewritten IBM Selectric, No final salutation in italics “With love”, but it was there nevertheless invisible electric “VC” Bleeding Bold Black thick cursive stroke With knife point calculation An arrow hit it’s bullseye A flourish with intent A nicotine stain at the bottom of the page Thumb print Mixed with a blur of Faded ink The type punched into the page By a spinning silver ball a small deadly bullet able to repeat repetition repeat repetition and hit it's mark At lightning speed from brain Falling onto the reader’s heart Like pounding black rain “Finding an ounce of good in that….” the third para read, “Is like finding one grain of sand in a Sea of Mud… Close the door now, walk away, before it is too late” His words held a certain power But not strong enough to contain The breeding rabbits running loose In my brain This was LOVE wasn’t it, For all time, a soliloquy, a a brave, yet stupid Statement not a wary question And there was a certain danger in that A final rebellious act To not heed sage warning Make my stand against childhood And a parent’s worthy pact Dangling one’s heart over the edge Holding onto the Other’s stories Holding onto Hope, hoping for Victory in the face of lies and fallen Glory Walking barefoot On the Other’s razor’s edge Holding on was the balancing act Raising the slippery bar higher “Saying your sorry doesn’t mean you’re sorry” Hailstones like fists hit your face Your gut's winded dodging ghosts Perhaps you thought you’d win the race You thought you were escaping High quality paper, thicker than most Stiff, proper, not white, sometimes mistaken for "A pale shade of yellow", he said once in jovial debate over the breakfast table with strong black tea, no sugar and cream buns, “The colour's brave. It’s ‘Buff’,” we all laughed, I said, “Like naked, unafraid?” I kept the letter, It was read again, years later, the words were like some prophecy to put a person firmly in their place In the fatal hours When one looks for lost grace Purple flowers spreading Over skin that’s no longer thin A Balancing Act and like Groundhog day it never ends it just begins Chapters broken are recipes for your Winter season With a growing belly Something new punches you from within Walking barefoot On the Other’s razor’s edge Sharp as a tightrope Invisible where it doesn’t show In the heart Purple flowers spreading (Lovejoy-Burton/June 2018)
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