Sunday, February 27, 2011

suitcase full of roses

tambourine girl lost in darkness
spinning near him
jangling; while
he is soaked in muddy water
he tastes like Deep Purple
and his voice resonates
it's hardened sound.
but he is sticky sweet
in a secret way, melting, and
he trickles down her
wrist while the eternal sun
bakes her face.
he has entered in forever.
Now a Man he splinters Off
and turns away, shady, like the moon.
the whisking away
happened without her
an arm spun slowly
and a decade passed.
now no one can see-
her world is nothing but
stale smoke, and swinging bulbs.
recalling ghosts who no longer
show her everything.
now there's a weepy loss
and an angry insistence and
we are
divided by the light in the sky.
pounding blue clouds breaking
through telling her what to do.
a suitcase full of red roses
wilt upon arrival.
it was once a harmony,
now it's voices absurd.
there's a twisting in the
rib-cage unopened.
a girl once sat on concrete
and stared hard at the sky
and a garden grew tentatively
and a meek girl found a tambourine
and it made a sound.
and now it's trouble
it's something else
it's gone.

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