Only Women Die Poem, by Melvin James, at My poetic side

to the world and back.

all letters caged.

syllables inferno, three stars as anagram;

Zeus by name and number,

creation came three mouths of prophecy;

the sleeping man, lime-green, as dumb as smoke,

leaves trail of waste to the white flamenco flesh;

her naked smell; damnation scent as surplus to the core;

she came through roots of man,

the chosen one. neither epitaph nor blunder,

a queen of light to right castrated man;

strangled by the flowers of consensual disease;

through the wards of hidden ceilings,

the climbing nettles rant and rage,

nurse-maid to scars far deeper than her own.

her grieving lines once laughter through the pillars of her heart,

now dead as dormouse feeding on a drip;

comes knowledge to the flailing wind,

the arts as crafted cyclone of retreat.

how many more the sleeping god ignores?

how many more now wish-bone for the fingers of the mute?

heirlooms come with branding irons on the gifted gab of love;

the slouch of man

two-tone as music singing bright deceased;

a heart released,

snows treasures from the eyes.

a once startled love as woman came to give,

passion lives; only women die;

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Only Women Die