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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Emotional · #1012702
This one's about how helpless we are when we fall in love.
Yellow

I had jumped (stupidly)
the first time,
Now I have fallen.
I was tempted,
I fell
And now I feel naked –
vulnerable.

I must find some fig leaves to cover me.

This is my being:
a smouldering unclean dirty grey gravel
pulls at the seams of pragmatism.
She’s slipping, her legs are spreading,
Circles adjoining inside her hands.
Revolutions.
Slow revolutions
Like a 33 free of scratches, until
the conscience –
a vine, a prickly vine, slices into her voice
(it sounds like sandpaper grinding against quartz).
Fists clench pulling at the sides of the seat
As the announcer’s voice bellows over
the twang of the orchestra's tuning forks.

But
the dog can’t help itself.
She salivates to the sound of Pavlov’s bell
(without hunger pains.)
She stares open mouthed as the malignant waltz begins.
Her dress is yellow.
Yellow.
High tide.
The pull of the undertow;
The mother wave threatening to pull her down into a coral bed
(which may or may not be soft).

She threw the coin in the well
and then dove in after it.

Leave the theater house before the lights are extinguished
Better yet, leave before the curtains part.

So she sits staring at the program
Her soul securely fastened to the syrup-stained floor.

It’s too dark;
She can’t find the coin
Or maybe she can, and just can’t pick it up.

She licks the juice dribbling down her love’s chin,
and slips the apple shards into her pocket out of sight of her conscience

She is taunted by the taste of her
The smell of her
The beauty of it
For just a moment
until the light changes

And yet she knows
She has seen the apocalyptic end
She felt the morning after the intoxication even before she had begun drinking

But her thirst
The sound of the bell

So she dips her sifter into the river
until her arms ache and the body becomes diseased
The fool’s variety

The irony is of course that she has been at the river bed before
and has been tempted by the autumnal dust

yet here she is falling again

plowing right through the intersection

with her foot pressed firmly against the floor boards

red apple
red blood
red warning.

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