2011 06 07
Ice glitters in a glass of water forlorn
if silver were true color of broken eyes
or nothing swallows hot milk of death
so she chokes and gasps for breath.
Bow rips across her violin heart soft
as feathers plucked from crippled swan
whose last song is smothered by hand
of iron doctor twisting wires ripped sharp.
Eighty-six girls in torn white gowns
stand staring at you on a granite cliff
pulling scissors out of their belly mouths
then leap and dive into red invisible sea.
Gentle doctor in a clean white smock
steers her mother toward polished door
murmuring I want to gain her sweet trust
by giving her a popsicle or a plush bear.
Lighting cracks open egg of her eye
and screams silent cutting wind why
if her own face melts on car window
to bleed tears oozing from torn mouth.
Hiding behind locked bedroom door
as Gothic vampire king wails on radio
she slashes pale thighs to cut out demon
that squirms gnawing hot stabbed heart.
Galloping in Black Forest on white horse
she raises sharp sword and howls hope
then chops writhing pink worm hard
hacking porcelain mask in splintered shards.
Tangled in blanket escaping cold hands
she snaps awake clutching her violin
to stare at gold moon bleeding tears
and snakes writhe hissing from her head.
Wearing pink gown in ribbons and lace
little girl stands on stage at her church
and rips heads off demons as she plays
tearing tangled wires of fear from her heart.
Face me and look in my cracked eyes
she screams behind sweet knife smile
then bows blind as everyone applauds
moved by strange passion of her song.
Bubbles of red lava explode hot milk
searing sudden thrust of sharp knife
though she kneels in her living room
watching nature channel about volcanoes.
She throws glass of milk at clean window
of laughing rage behind picture shards
that reflect one eye swallowing her mind
or piece puzzle of despair to forget now.
Kneeling nude at midnight on lake shore
she paints violin red with dream blood
and strings wires from her mute heart
since books eat theories of mad love.
I she opens gray mouth to explain fear
if face of mother gleams brittle white
confusion tainting her voice from love
but falls without wings and groans hurt.
My favorite letter ache that is for horse
shines red as blood from broken eyes
that float with Orpheus on silent stream
and watch you when you wake in dream.
You know my name I carved in stone
hammer striking chisel in mountain glade
but who rose from death though torn apart
by teeth of kind doctor in a wolf cloak.
Gliding with friends in elegant lounge
and sipping gold drink by large window
lit by moon she smiles at a cute guy
asking his name with a flirtatious grin.
What do you do for a living William
and he purrs I work as a pediatrician
but her fingers crush chalice of red wine
and she throws up on his clean white suit.
Wrapped in pink wool bathrobe warm
she looks at her hands shaped like a violin
and blushes I apologize for my behavior
but dragon of rage ripped my pretty mask.
Look in my eyes beyond mirror moon
and you will see color of broken eyes
and smiles as he fusses over her health
giving her warm honey ginger tea to drink.
His finger caresses her trembling cheek
but eyes of glass crack into egg of light
as she whispers he is locked in prison now
then disappears behind mist of lost hope.
He paints her wearing a pink lace gown
playing violin safe on marble cupola bed
as three swans float on star-sparkling lake
but spirit of her soul pounds at her skull.
I live in top room of a cold stone tower
singing with birds and holding a flower
but hair your hands could climb up to me
was ripped from my soul when I was three.
Huddled in a yellow coat on river walk
she stands away from him in gray drizzle
and watches her face melt down windows
while staring beyond illusion at star heart.
I could not escape his grasping hands
but letter double you glows soft green
so maybe your kiss will revive my heart
but this sleeping beauty rots under glass.
William places porcelain vase with rose
on river balustrade and whispers mute
I love you no matter what happened Em
as I explore labyrinth of your purple heart.
Ice cubes melt filling her glass heart high
with water rippling down river of light
while true color of broken eyes reveals
death smiling from abyss of nothing real.
Emma holds his face with both hands
as William wakes just before blue dawn
and they sit together silent on wet lawn
watching sun rise reborn on shared breath.