"We hide behind sheets of words and sometimes find comfort on wearing them proudly. I have unbowed my bloody head with the things I have killed and revered what I have immortalized. I will continue to shield, maim, murder, pine, ponder and slave over the very words that force itself out of my body but leave its hand clutched on my still beating heart."

-Darrel Pobre

Friday, April 10, 2009

Wilt


you hang roses upside down to dry
and they crinkle in delicate lines
aging quickly in petal years,
curling into shrunken lips
side by spooning side
like burnt fabric edges

not falling piece by piece from a wilting flower
posed inside a sneering Italian vase

you asked yourself if leaves feel
cheated after a game of hide and seek
its the needed intimacy that draws them
to flirt with caterpillars and wind
hoping to brush
brutally on other branches, on stems
or other serrated foliage
because hanging separately to die
is irrevocably painful and sad

petals hug each other for immortality.

9.50 PM
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1 comment:

  1. iandihApril 23, 2009 at 12:28 PM

    "...petals hug each other for immortality." ---> this is so intimate...makes me remember my family and friends...

    you nailed that down.

    ReplyDelete

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