Your voice rang to the tune of church bells
that night. Its timbre exhausted, your eyes
deep glasses of cognac as you chanted your spells.
The words steeped in glorious lies
that lit into me, cigarette butts branding my chest.
I could feel it coming. I longed for it. Your story
so unlike my own. Tar stained and tragic, transgressed
by all. I smiled when you handed me violet morning glories
as if that would shroud your little amusement, in love.
The rouge on my lips, slathered on my cheeks
Are you not seduced? Hours consisted of
Aching Whispers in darkness for two weeks.
Thirteen Days, sputniks hovering in glittering sky
But the Fourteenth day, your note read goodbye.
Source: We Heart It
It's beautiful! :)
ReplyDeleteYour sonnet makes me feel like it's a tragedy, but it's good all the same!
ReplyDeleteWow, I had no idea while reading that that you wrote it! It's beautiful. I thought it was from a book or something.
ReplyDeleteMy favorite part is: The rouge on my lips, slathered on my cheeks
Are you not seduced? Hours consisted of
Aching Whispers in darkness for two weeks.
Thirteen Days, sputniks hovering in glittering sky
But the Fourteenth day, your note read goodbye.
"The words steeped in glorious lies
ReplyDeletethat lit into me, cigarette butts branding my chest" ... heartbreakingly beautiful! i don't know why you were dreading it, it's gorgeous!