A Shriveled Blossom

“To want and not to have, sent all up her body a hardness, a hollowness, a strain. And then to want and not to have—to want and want—how that wrung the heart, and wrung it again and again!” ~ Virginia Woolf

I am longing
for days when we were
not a shriveled blossom
shrouded by sun-
light and death.

Has the wind whispered
secrets my pen can’t keep?
We miss you, my ink
and me.

When my ink misses you
most, I wish for words
to write you out
of my veins.

Last night, I ate kiwi
coated in passion fruit juice,
pecans and memory—

every bite tasted of ashes.

the wee notes…
– Marian, at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, gave us 30 themes and invited us to write a poem about one (or several) of them. I wanted Cake, but I ended up dancing with Romance…
– Linked to Poets United, Poetry Pantry 380.

the visual poetry

73 thoughts on “A Shriveled Blossom”

  1. Aw. William Gass wrote there’s a soul inside every sentence, and the well is infinite in a yearning love poem like this — a language construction equivalent to galaxies. So when the poem hurts, nebulii wail. Devastating last lines. Atta girl.

  2. The art work and words are just stunning. I would like to use one of these art pieces to enhance a poem. Of course I would fully acknowledge you as the writer and artist .

  3. Last night, I ate kiwi
    coated in passion fruit juice,
    pecans and memory—
    every bite tasted of ashes.
    I just love that part… it resonates deeply in ways I wish I couldn’t recognize. Great stuff!

  4. This is incredibly stunning in its depth and feeling, Magaly!❤️ Especially touched by; “When my ink misses you most, I wish for words to write you out of my veins.” Beautifully penned!❤️

  5. You’ve earned a piece of cake for this one. There is so much longing, even though the protagonist knows there is nothing left for them. Even sweetness tastes like death.

  6. Wonderful imagery, Magaly. Those last four lines – whew. The sweetness of kiwi tasting of ashes speaks so vividly of a lost relationship. Your pictures complement your verse nicely completing your post today! Smiles.

  7. You have definitely captured the feeling here. The third stanza is my fav, and it is a great transition from the second into the third. The fourth feels like a departure, but it is almost like you are examining the feelings across different facets. Definitely writing you out of my veins is my fav though.

  8. This is indeed a stunning write Magaly and it does hurt to read – yet I keep going back for more, re-reading, awfully consumed by its passions.

    And “When my ink misses you most, I wish for words to write you out of my veins”
    eats my emotions, but I don’t mind at all.

    Anna :o]

  9. The way taste is lost… when it doesn’t matter… fantastic sadness when all is ash… almost feels like living with an urn

  10. your words…charged with such intensity.. the heart-fire of love and sadness…lighting my every sense… ashes, veins..ink, pecans…I feel smoldered in beautiful poetry…..loved every word and heartfelt moment of this! it is as though you have cast me into an ocean of the soul, both bittersweet and flowing with deep love all at once!


    have a magical week ahead enchantress

  11. How well you see the world Magaly, where everything is so passionate and cathartic. Each word you use, is a slave to your bidding and it is always wonderful to visit.

    • I prefer my kiwi (and most of my fruit) unripe, I enjoy the super-sour with a bit of bitter. What can I say? I’m weird like that. And yes, it would be nice if we could write some people and some things out of our veins, alas…

  12. This is heartwrenching … exquistely … tenderly penned. Incredible writing. The last four lines brought a lump to my throat. I think this is some of your best work, Magaly – up there with some of your most stunning pieces … albeit, fast becoming a crowded pinnacle, such is the brilliance of your talent.

  13. Magaly, I love the lines, “I wish for words to write you out”.
    I like to believe that someone can be written out by wished words.
    p.s. I’ve been absent for a bit, cruising for three weeks. When we came back from Halifax to the Brooklyn docks Mrs. Jim and I hopped on the ferry over to the Wall Street Peer. From there we walked over to the 9/11 Memorial area. I did think of you in your office, looking out at us as tourists, walking along. That was October 26.

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