Seasons #3 (my personal favorite)

she speaks breaths of
airless pretense
composed vibrations of rhetoric
and she falls in love
with everyone

she’s been hiding
by sleeping with her back to the sky
and her head buried in the sea
when push turns to pull
that’s when you know
all springs must fall

You’d plucked her of her petals,
her body, her mind,
her skin, her skin, her skin, her skin
until she was
a core apart.

Shallow forevers float through her mouth
nothing heavy enough to fill or kill
the empty hole
she keeps as an open door
she watched you go

Her thoughts
wandered and meandered
into wistful daydreams
that used to be
tangible things

when she gathered the strength
to close that hole
a slight breeze slid under
the aperture below
enveloping her in the same, cold nostalgia

 

Formerly at caseoflen.wordpress.com

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