She is yellow tonight, grinning
as she reflects the day. Her breath
Splashes against me, needles of silver
Inject my skin. Casting shadows and trapping thought,
in punctured sails.
Petals dissolve; gather as pulp at the base
Of my heart. Burgundy lines solid flesh.
Empty beats crackle and echo through
my hollow bones. Chalk that spends itself
in continual lines.
Thought, in tatters hanging from my brain,
Is dry. Scorched by the flickering tongue
Of the sun. Flames that fed on the fertile
Fabric, spun from raw emotion.
Devoured the spark,
Copyright © Phil Naylor | Year Posted 2005
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