Her Bounty Flesh

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zooropamanda

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Smile, you're reading my post
Whispered blankets of breath watch over her softly skin
she renders up the fire starter in her wooden head,
to spread spit all over her day.
What death you did steal
and rip and soar..

How long she ached
to make time stand still
and watch as the lonely colours
drip from the walls;
and so wait on her unloving rose bed
to catch another poison dew drop,
as it encircled the waves that cackle and skip
over her feather like lashes.

Grave willed shadows held her tightly, delightly;
ruby chipped nails
with knuckles worn white,
shying away from the innder depths
of madness and memory.

Alabaster tongues send her,
laugh lines shimmer through the speckled night,
black holed doors adhere unto
her head crawling with photographs
and spiders from death.

Her two sided mirror
gave way to the storytelling foes
and painted her bounty flesh,
rotten and sore,
red to the core.
She stood so deathly silent
gazing upon her own melodic and unborn beauty
torn in two by her memory's sweet, silent goodbye.

And the knife rained down
to lead her to happiness once more.
 
it's amazing, Manda. you always manage to use the most unexpected imagery to throw a new light on whatever you are writing about. I love it
 
Whispered blankets of breath watch over her softly skin
she renders up the fire starter in her wooden head,
to spread spit all over her day.
What death you did steal
and rip and soar..


and so wait on her unloving rose bed
to catch another poison dew drop,
as it encircled the waves that cackle and skip
over her feather like lashes


Her two sided mirror
gave way to the storytelling foes
and painted her bounty flesh


She stood so deathly silent
gazing upon her own melodic and unborn beauty
torn in two by her memory's sweet, silent goodbye


haunting and beautiful written manda
 
I always wish you would post more of your poems, though you always say they are "unfinished"

and foray is right, this is such a fresh, original take on this subject, and for a few moments there within your poem, I can start to understand a little of what's going on in this person's "world"
 
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