Fatal Oblivion

 

A morning

remembered only

for its damask entry

a velvet touch

along hemlined

quasi-dream.

 

This leisure waking state

nebulous of prism-light

golden-stillness enfolding

a noncommittal fog

of half-twilight, sinking.

 

Shadows flit then tease

broken, seeking form

from invisible placenta-thought

retinas thrust inside blindness

external visions impaired,

neatly aborted ~

fatal oblivion.

 

Memory, snow blanketed

with intermittent waves

of fire and cold

tug from quiescent core

weeping through

fabrics of mortal reluctance.

 

It’s at this moment

we are most vulnerable

abandoned even in love.

Your arms wrapped snugly

around me feel a distant

world away.

 

As you kiss the air between us,

all realism asunder,

bent in the coil of an

arctic caress,

my lips acknowledge

a measure of unspeakable hunger,

the first light rays

of unintended emptiness.

 

*•.¸♥♥¸.•*

© Susan Joyner-Stumpf

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