The Death of Words

prone cold on forest floor buried
in a ratted nest of torn pages

crumpled, tossed
in bloody autumn shades of pain

stale air hushes
— gusts the death of words

arboretum canopy covers
tucked in a winter wild with chaos

fabric shreds hang off limbs
dirtied hiding from time’s abuse

fucked by wealth of words
— errantly used

stung by false love
crash-and-burned

reaching out a hand
a skeleton in thin skin

picking out refrains
from rotting teeth

spitting out prose
that failed

bonfire wails
of voices killed

from inside
spilled

~ Emily C.

2.22.17

Lavender

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“What does the air in Italy smell like?”
she asked.

He, the American writer in Naples,
replied,

“…Of lavender
and damp ancient clay.”

She fell hard. His words made love
to her thirsty heart.

Their words together, an electric storm,

The kind of connection that begs
deliverance.

Two souls briefly converge,
realizing their limits.

She will never smell lavender again
without thinking of him, of Italy

and what could have been.

~ EC

1.9.17

Signs

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Approach cautiously.

Read warning signs

Heed warning signs.

This heart is frozen.

Thin ice in parts.

Take extreme precaution.

Step slowly.

Test surface

before committing.

Bring safety gear.

Thermal layers.

Ice axe

recommended.

Or you may fall through.

Unless you want to.

Then light open flame.

 

~ EC

1.7.17

Firmament

flammarion

You kissed me through the firmament
Although I could not see your face…
I felt your lips, a love transmitted
Through time and space

Our hands traced each other’s
Silky smooth circles, slippery grasp
I felt your heat, fire of a forever flame 
Ignited by a gravity inexplicable in force

Pressed our bodies together
Film separates our carnal desires
But not the pulse, the breath…sustained
A torturous dance incomparably intense

And as my heart found yours,
We beat in unified cosmic signals
A message sure to echo across
Planets in vast distant galaxies

O, to slice through this barrier
To release my love full force
For the almost having…
An unbearably cruel farce

~ EC

1.5.17

You Are, I Am


(photo credit: Emily C., Carkeek Beach, Seattle, 6.20.16)

If you are the sun, I am the open leaf
If you are the open leaf, I am the raindrop
If you are the raindrop, I am dry soil
If you are dry soil, I am the stubborn daisy
If you are the daisy, I am the field

If you are the moon, I am the telescope
If you are the telescope, I am your galaxy
If you are the galaxy, I am the satellite
If you are the satellite, I am ground control
If you are ground control, I am the astronaut

If you are the wind, I am the windmill
If you are the windmill, I am the farm
If you are the farm, I am the farmer
If you are the farmer, I am your crop
If you are the crop, I am your scarecrow

If you are the ocean wave, I am your beach
If you are the beach, I am toes in your sand
If you are the sand, I am the sand castle
If you are the sand castle, I am the moat
If you are the moat, I am the drawbridge

If you are the fire’s ember, I am the oxygen
If you are the oxygen, I am the match
If you are the match, I am your kindling
If you are the kindling, I am your hearth
If you are the hearth, I am a thawing heart

~ EC

6.24.16

Someday

flames in his eyes mesmerized
her will left to hide out of sight

each lick of flare in his pupils’ glare
tickled her skin in passion’s singe

she could not look away…trapped
his intensity played on her desire

he knew how to control his fire
just the right level, the right dose

sway to its sway, she danced
locked in a brutal romance

the words he burned from his lips
left smoky stains on her flesh

a pack-a-day habit, he was…
someday, she swore she’d quit

 

~ EC

1.1.17