Murky Black

Unpublished pieces

Stillness: escaping from the bottle 
left deserted in a corner of the room. 

You deny, and so do I, that anything 
has happened to our gnawing love. 

Surface: it is calm and at rest for 
anybody who looks in this direction .

Testimony of ecstasy freely offered 
to the haunting cloak of shifting fog .

Interior: broken glass lying scattered 
across the rhythm of our dress code. 

The faintest ripple across the heart 
pulsating with searching, lonely eyes .

Stillness: shatters the chain-saw bite 
that demands attention to detail. 

Reality: the surface is murky black 
much brighter than what's inside.

View sanctus's Full Portfolio
jimtwocrows's picture

This is a deep poem. I will

This is a deep poem. I will have to ponder it, for awhile.