Author: M.W
I.
if we spoke we lied
the truth was false too
i needed to see my reflection in your eyes
if we saw delphie s oracle she would tell us what is not and it would become tell me i
will become i will i promise
II.
It came upon me like the heart of an oncoming storm
Or a vision of a fate like death
That if you saw the woman in my mirror
You would not know who she was.
If you saw the woman that I am
In the privacy of my own mind
You would understand her no more than you understood
The slim facets of her you glimpsed that summer.
III.
There is no heaven here, nor salvation.
In the cold tomb of the Capulets.
There was none neither in your arms
Only dead birds, limp feathers.
The flesh beneath the scab is only ever half healed.
You never let it scar.
You don’t want to find another heart to fidget with,
And find yourself at the end of the summer with twice as many scared arms.
An old woman will pick up a ruined doll from a playground at dusk,
She will cradle the young thing’s face.
Wipe away the bootprint stains
And give it back some grace.