A Spiracle Leap
A SPIRACLE LEAP
The spiral staircase made her high heels sing.
Round and round, Suzette tapped a snazzy dance.
Her smile sparkling, ears dangling with butterfly wings.
Curves on fire, tights and a bodysuit, tighten his trance.
Her sugar cane a la morse code, a hypnotic prop.
Brady’s heart making love, promising everything.
The wings of her bedpost become a silk backdrop.
Occasioned honeymoon, death claimed her wedding ring.
From here the City churches pierced the mist,
shrouding every living part inside his tortured chest,
clamoring to raise the dead, in rage, with tentacled fist.
Like a hammer to a crucifix’ nail, he pounds his breast.
The creak of her satin-lined coffin, pure and white,
speaks to his quietus soul — her shut eyes aware.
Suzette spoke in a spiracle leap, from the box, sans sight.
He closed it, and, now smiling, crossed the square.
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