Holed

The doctor says phantom heartaches aren’t chronic.
“Distance should stop the bleeding. Take ½ a Time pill before the moon remembers she will never kiss the sun.”

Distance hasn’t worked,
Time tumored around thoughts of your tongue touching my mind,
my wounds are infected by loneliness, oozing memories…
and the throbbing is as maddening as the night you ripped happiness
out of loins that have never learned not to want you.

The doctor prescribed a new heart.
He pushed it into the nothingness you left behind,
tearing through breast and bones that still refuse to stop being yours.

“Perfect fit.”

“I feel nothing.”

“You won’t die from not feeling.”

“Neither will I live unfelt,” I told him, my chest holed anew.

 

via
Eblis Images is out of this world, don’t you think?

 

– for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

Shadows and Rainbows

The season frolics through my words, and my soul shudders under sun-teased pleasures. I smile, delighting in the way my dark and my bright dance (free and bare) for all to read. Old Man Winter died screaming, but I don’t fret—Primavera kisses everything better.

limbs naked and spread,
awaiting spring’s blooming kiss,
dreaming of summer

Darkness and blood and thunder rip into my calm. Chaos cackles through walls of bone, chanting, “I slaughtered Tender and Quiet and fed their carcasses to Hel’s shadows. I’ve broken all your rainbows, my pet—no more brightness to brew thought.”

wild hearts are open
to pandemonium’s peace—
bring on the madness

In the beginning and before the end, I think (equally fine) in shadows and rainbows.

.
the wee notes…
Primavera is the Spanish word for spring.
– Hel (Norse Mythology) presides over a realm of the dead that shares her name.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Penultimatums: Voyages’ End (Almost), and to Poets United ~ Poetry Pantry 351.

The inspiration for the first haiku…

…and the heart of the last stanza.