Death Looking Like Love
There I slid, undid a promise or two, then cried
A hundred vows, a broken bough, and sighed.
Fumbling, bumbling, onto swamp water's cold
Icy stares, a million eyes, my humor seemed to die.
I am but a skeleton man, no food in hand, no tears
A dream that's lost, a song silenced on my breath.
Steps that stumble, my mind is a-bumbling of deathly-fears.
My skin crawled like a snake shedding, no seed, no death.
"How soft her music sounds," a fearful heart doth cry
I dance no softer than steals the sky's frowning.
"Oh, tell me who I am," while singing to die.
She is oblivious to crying, pleading, and soul be drowning.
She plays with strings and lovely things with stardust fine
I grovel, crawl, and walk face-first knowing it is time.
All black dogs go silent, a moth dares to fly by night-time line.
Her lady fans a silken Spanish fan, smiling, just a crime.
Dusty steps cause my betrayal to seep to her home dark
Her strings bend to a forgotten solo keen.
I am no younger, but dreading a heartbeat's redding mark.
She was eighteen, I was born when I turned fifteen.
And my crusted eyes now opened, my heart barely shut into
She touches, struggles to form right words, sensible words.
I embrace such a woman, a women beyond beautiful skies
From deepest regions of sea, higher than ravens, the evil birds.
Fly long, fly higher than there is no more a higher place
Let me hold onto you, a limp body alive with sweat.
We both smile and silently phrase we've run our race.
Not hot. Not cold. Not death. But love in Asian wet.
© 2019 Kenneth Avery