Passion Defibrilation

whisperingquill



Cornerstone

I.
you walked regal
betwixt feral mawars
and bedim quasar runes
folding golden thorns
tween the sigh of rendaku
as dakuten,

as disemboweled epiphanies
fall as satin regret
within your parched pith
erecting a rood of cross referencing
one sided justification

like serotonin rimes
I auscultated every sibilant
you yammered,

contriving quiet tide of mid dim
into origami prophecy rooting
itself as Eden innocence
in my crestfallen cheekbones.

II.
amour can only be found
once.

you said,

so I superimposed our day-peeps
in the throat of dimmet rising
and whittled them into minikin
uncials as a epode to the
dim hours we spent bundled
as a sole thump

so that when Asian pigeon wings bloom
branching out for del sol,
I will pocket mourning stars that you
branded to my lips

and heed them as they euthanize
the cabal of glowing wings
from powder crystal
& comatose drones murmuring

keeping me from woolgathering
in the hum of swarthy reign

III.
you insufflated
in the residual orisons
that I etched upon our
chaise side pharos,

your lungs mushroomed
as my costae cage undulates
emaciated for the ardency
that desiccated from my pouty labium

for you,
I eructed the eburneous sighs
and nevus retentive visions
of our idyll
in the cubeb apertures
of our connubial frozen stills.

And I can see the 'o' of your lips
in the weeping basilica on the other side
blowing soundless sertraline concussive
cuneiform in the air--

spherical and herniated-
like the grey of my atrium

IV.
we danced till
the narcotics of our consecrated bond
crumbles to form Dramamine lullabies
across your portraits
that I shaded with every heaving
breath & an orphaned solar plexus

I still cite the birr
of our eiderdown entwinement,
and the vagalumes from our first night
that jeopardized to thesis
deep within our mimeographed Pangea


V.
all I know now,
are the magic number gifts that you hid
beneath my pillow,
so that when I sleep,
my spine would respire them
and become a clowned clone of you
so you may chronicle me as
a magnum opus that you concoct
from your snafu

VI.
but amour, can only be found
once, my halvah
so I learnt the lesson of becoming
a fettered ignis fatuus.

 

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WhisperingQuill.All Rights Reserved.
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Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3),WhisperingQuill.

  • Author: Whisperingquill (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 24th, 2019 20:20
  • Comment from author about the poem: Unrequited
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 19
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