Submitted Date 04/12/2022

this thunderous silence shakes the house
of my heart until stony dust rains
down onto the heads of my cowering selves

this dark lightning flashes black in the eyes
making darkspots swim in the vision
of the multitude of me

her face turns away from my plaintive pleas
a chisel driven into the heartstone
cleaving it with careless ease

the regard of the lady turns; my lighthouse
guiding the spirit is no more
my love a wreck on the rocks of her hurting

I break apart into shards of longing
no more a stately thing of grace
where once I visited her soft sugar-sand

she was what I imagined her to be once
undiscovered wilderness where time slowed
expanding to fill the passion-seas of US

you cannot conquer her wild rookery-rocks
where her kindnesses glided in
searching there to nest in me

or know the darkling jungled felines of her
crouched in passion now to spring
upon you as she tears you with loving

my soul is stranded evermore; starved eyes
searching for the vinefruit of her words
but I devoured them hungrily

inhalation of her saltwinds cannot be
she sails now on another sea
and my eyes burn the horizon to foamy ash


Brady S BowenI like pretty words.


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