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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 20:06:51 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 104822
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => ascension.
[time] => 2005-09-01 03:00:24
[hometext] => Written August 27.
[bodytext] => Quietly, she rises from her bed taking the utmost of care not to awaken the invisible soul [not]laying beside her. Such fantasies – so childish, yet so adult – proof of her slow descent. She dances to the window; five-a.m. frost, like fairies’ breath, taints the cool glass mobile, beneath her fingertips. Beckoning, she wakens the wind and the west – slow to rouse today. Her hushed, slow Sunday dawns Teacups filled – the sugar bowl o’errun with a(u)nts those of the vengeful vein. Mascara drips; one lump or two? or three or four? or five or six? or seven or more?; more, please. Thank you kindly – she doesn’t think the universe hates her enough, yet. The skeletons in her closet play hide-and-seek ‘neath the floorboards. Time for a new town? This river’s run… wet. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 256 [topic] => 2 [informant] => blackmarker [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 15 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LovePoetry )
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