She never liked him
She never liked him,
even though his hair
fell with incorrigible waves
and when charming
he made the food and wine
taste more sweet than it ever could.
She never like him,
never liked the way
he reduced those around him
to small carved pieces
all in the name of humour
but never at his own expense.
She never liked him
when he walked with his sword arm
and took the puddles first,
brought flowers
then macerated the stalks;
claimed they lasted longer that way
she just saw the sadness
as blooms died far away from home.
She never liked him
even when he drew on the coutours,
understood the map of her body,
made her cry in ecstacy
brought the earth
to a standstill
then let it float on its axis
She never liked him
even when he tenderly
taught her how to fly,
to lie, still and just listen
to a heartbeat,
hear the song
of a sweeping dawn
brushing a day brand new.
She never liked him,
the way he extinguished
candles in a still breath,
licked the flames
flicked his charm
to cut and abrase.
She never liked him
but how she loved him
for all the cruel and cutting ways,
how when bodies entwine
their joint veins
sway with the song of seas
and all the pounding
softens rocks to sand
she never liked him,
across a room,
holding audience
and then like
the saplings in a harsh winter
they fell, not accolytes
to fall.
Charm has no equal
just fatal when misused.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2010-07-31 at 13:20
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