( phantoms )

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
midnight visitations.

Submitted: September 10, 2009

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Submitted: September 10, 2009

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the tiles pressed into my knees,
imprinting grooves and shallow crevasses,
creases of red and pink.
i watched them fade with nonchalance and ease,
dissipating into my breath,
painting white on glass.

my limbs are bent, like towers of branches,
feet leaving memories, soft vapours in harsh air.
i am pure.
saint-like.

i have wires around my throat,
mechanical black and passion red ;
and held stones in my hands as you
walked with me into flowing planes of cerulean.
my feet are cold, numbed, pebbles flowing
beneath the whirls of engraved skin,
beneath the calloused parts.

( you said i had ghosts in my head,
their veins lingering in the whites of my eyes,
breaths swimming from my eager mouth when i kissed your spine.
you said that i touched your flesh like no other,
with my cigarette svelte fingers and swagger mouth,
hair dried like leaves outside and skin crackling like serpents.

when i touch the curves of your body,
beneath your breasts and where your elbow begins,
i burn your flesh, charred black where my fingernails dance. )

you are holding my hand and then you let go,
pushing me forward, surrendering me to the sprites that eagerly drag me down.
my knees shiver, my skin covered in grooves, and eyes still.
you tell me i'm lovely, my hair mussed,
ribs cracked and legs bleeding and crisscrossed with months-ago scabs.
you throw me a forget-me-not,
their blues frighten me and cause my breath to catch in my dry throat.

i'm looking at you with wet flesh and a bare chest,
the water swallows me, tendrils of invisible phantoms meandering past my body,
and you watch as i disappear.

( i felt my toes reach the soil
like jagged pieces of glass
as the earth split into two
i saw the stars
as the world broke
open )


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