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A Newly Budded Fire
I.
I am devastated by the fire and frost
of these seasons between separation and divorce.
No vindictive act quite cures the phantom pain
that exists only in the emptiness.
II.
Dim capsules pad my senses
and brittle fruits amuse my tongue
rx inhibitions sewn into the folds
of small hours; a temporary vaccination
against the moments in life
that challenge my will to live.
III.
Wishing stars and a thick weeping moon
curl up beneath animated skin
like a thousand tumors
anticipating the feeling
of some strange
Knowing
III.
Eyes eavesdrop, Midnight disciples
bear witness to my streams
of misunderstood whispers
as if they might interpret my lexis
of suspired scrolls;
those vanishing ellipses that curl from lips
in the gestation of a moment.
III.
This restlessness; it germinates
into a blooming sub-species of fire,
aches of famine and fullness
always alternate
a layer of sun
over a layer of sin.
IV.
The consequences of containing fire
blossom in my mouth,
uncurling one petal of fire after another
until some great
demon-flower crawled from between my lips
an anonymous hunger,
that constantly folds self into self
and manipulates
the occult within
V.
I was someone with you and I will be
someone without you.
Copyright ©
Jean Marble
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