The Marrow of a Lifetime
Painted Delilah's,
scarlet sirens,
apples and bloodshed-
all these,
a breathless,
quilted extinguisher
to save my soul
Temptation, danger,
damnation, anger,
a shade of shame;
a reckless taint of hell.
But I'm not a red woman,
I don't go looking for Red,
don't invite it for a sleepover
or rent it a room in my soul
but I feel red
red all over,
burning;
a rolling blaze taunting,
daring me to breathe
and when I inhale
it consumes me
and I live
in a moment of passions
and I act
with the spirit of fire
each breath I take
between this convention of maturity and that
is freedom,
the marrow of of a Lifetime,
an instant when the fire of life
finds amnesty
from the suffocating restlessness
of written and unwritten rules.
It's in these brief, red rages
that Life is created, saved, lost
but appriciated all the same
It's in these moments
that mountains are moved,
oceans crossed
limitations exceeded...
and when the moment is passed
I live on in red-blind denial
for the next whorling tempest of petals
to blossom
like nature intended.
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