These words fell from shivering boughs...
Words from July
by Jay Daly
Rooms of patience sway
beneath heavy eyelids drawn,
Pull the thorns from your lover’s wrists,
a burderned kiss, bloodied on lips,
smeared upon hips, burned by wisps
of smoke, stolen cigarettes pressed deep
under sheets, lack of sleep, burrowed teeth.
A fragile leaf turned anew, the interlude
of blue, hazed in mist; a winter phase
out of place, mid-summer daze,
a sweat-covered face drips idly
upon the chest of romanticism confided in.
The side of sin that strangles thought
contortion of guilt abortion, soul extortion;
a heart without an ocean to swim in, slow motion
ripples upon the sand of notions misheard
and shaped into names estranged.
Dissuade the blame of all things maimed
before the first signs of pain began
to draw blood from the tension of love
drenched in blackened mud, cold and deep;
they smile softly yet still they weep.