Mystery of a Dead Child
Pardoned through the postmortem black
The green air like gas driving through
The dense flakes laid on my head.
My body lay heavy with the sunken Red Sea.
My clearness clear all eyes, I feel nothing now,
Not the vivacious flashes of a Summer Lady
Nor the rowdy screams of children at funerals.
My body lay cold, cold as a ferret’s nose,
I could hear it scream through pale October.
And all I remember in the weary twilight:
The seat belt clamped against my silent heart
My body threw itself from the vigor of metals,
Your hell widens to the flush of my form
And I felt my psyche evaporate in the clear air
Flashes of red and blue tango perfumery against the senseless black.
And all I remember in the weary twilight
Was a slim light calling my concealed name… I answered.
The red and blue steadily vanished in the blackness.
I watch my numb body lay flat on silver
Piecing together the weary twilight of red and blue
And shutting doors, though dead stiff, it was nothing new.
Copyright © Marcus Bailey | Year Posted 2016
|