Forgiveness and Memory

Leaving her here (with him… alone) makes my heart choke in the pumping of its own blood. But neither instinct nor logic can bring moonlight into eyes that have been shut.

She’s shaking. Not with dread (as she should), but with hope-filled pleasure fed by what lies behind the flash of his sharp teeth. A storm of stillborn action, dammed by my promise to her, thunders behind my eyeballs, threatening to flood the place with reasons why she should run.

Watching his paw possess the small of her back, I yearn for dark woods, for a cottage, and an ax. He presses his snout to her cheekbone. Not the one shadowed by purplish oozing towards green, but the one that sits under unmarred flesh… the one that’s yet to meet his love’s knuckled kiss.

I drop her running-from-his-hell bag at the threshold.

She detangles her body (but not her Self) from him, and walks to the door to hug me goodbye. “Change that face,” she whispers. “I’ve forgiven his mistake.”

I hug her tight against my chest, wanting to hide her cheekbones under my rib cage. With her fragility so close to my despair, I can’t stop the storm from gently thundering into her hair. “Forgiveness is best served with a side order of memory.”

the bright of the moon
casting shadows in winter,
shrouds man-made ruins

.
inspired by “Forgiveness”,
winner of the ninth Expanding Bits of Fiction and Poetry into Haibun
and linked to dVerse (Haibun Monday, 9)

Gaijin Geisha, by Shelle Kennedy“Gaijin Geisha”, by Shelle Kennedy
(The first time I saw this painting, I wondered about what thoughts could have put that look on the geisha’s face… I guess now I know.)

Crab Apple Love

I love myths and adore love. So when Sanaa’s Prompt Nights asked for myth in poetry, I went digging for a poem I wrote a few weeks after my Piano Man and I got handfasted. It has a bit of Psyche and Eros, of crab apples and Silver Lake, of cyberspace in New York… and of love.

“Crab Apple Love”

Our lust tale
burst out of cyberspace
high on crab apple permeated words.
Psyche’s heart profiled us a match made in New York.
The light in his burnt honeying eyes
spoke to my flesh and soul…
to my brain:
“Eros’ consort hides things,
but myth says she lies not to sisters.”
We kissed lore, said “I do” and boarded life’s ferry.
Hand-in-hand we sail our Silver Lake,
sharing crab apple love
and secrets.

Crab Apple Lovemy Piano Man and I collecting the crab apple branches we used to make handfasting favors

Triquain Swirl Poem: created by joining stanzas together on the seventh line, eliminating the second 3 syllable line and the space between stanzas. The finished stanza will stand at 13 lines and may be repeated thereafter. 3 – 6 – 9 – 12 – 9 – 6 – 3 – 6 – 9 – 12 – 9 – 6 – 3
*originally published here*