Elevations of a Transitory Soul – 1


The experiences that take a life through the beauty and struggle of becoming more fulfilled, told in poetic back and forth perspectives of two soul-mates. Due to circumstances beyond their own control neither get what they want, and must learn to let go and live happy regardless

I remember watching her hurt. Ruby Red Runnin’ stop lights
through her nostrils to cross her lips.
If she could see how beautiful it is, I know she’d never quit.
The look for her next fix, she’s cold and needs the burn
Or the bite of her sun, and the sting of the stars
along her arms, and on her tongue, and down her thighs,
her crescent lights. Alone she can’t lift her soul,
alone she won’t lay, no for she hates the cold.
Her smile is found in the warmth.

He looks at me like everything is fine,
but it’s on the inside he’s dying, of his own pondering.
Can’t see anything past his self aggrandizing.
Like he is everything right with this side of the Pleiades,
He knows he is faulty; dangerous to let him love me,
He’s unfinished art like something a painter realized
was a lost cause. Not something worth working on.
He’s broken all along this death march.

He asked her if she was okay, and she shot him a fierce glance,
that smeared the blood across her cheek.
If he didn’t rise, he’d consume himself.
Though that sweetness, that fiery mind, he was hooked.
Her taste his sole desire.
Her desire to feel what She’s always felt,
Could only end up empty. He sounded full of life,
but his was ending.

Okay that’s it for now! I’ve got a lot I’m working on, but I know I’ve got stuff for everyone.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s