Trapped Eyes

I woke up gently, the soft light of early morning dancing across the surface of my eyelids. The memory of last night seeped into my bones, and my stomach gave a little flutter as I turned my head to look beside me, though past experience told me what I would find. He always meticulously made up his side of the bed before he left, pillows plumped under the flowered bedspread which was folded back with its cotton sheet to accommodate my own slight form. He left no trace, ever. I had stopped questioning it long ago.

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A poem

Flaming petals rise as I
Kneel in blackened earth
Scraping, scratching
Scorched earth burning grieving fingers
Searching for cloven heart
Half a heart
Smoke rises
Incense of death
Sacrifice of rebirth
Golden bloom meets red
Sleep, dream, awake...
Still with cloven heart
Far I wander, far I search
Memory is as drifting incense
Light of day should not blind so!
A formless voice beckons
As ghostly bindings tighten
With beauty agonized enraptured
I grasp at smoke
Breathe of curling incense
Dream of whispering breezes that tickle my lips
And echo of the cloven heart

The Marble Lady

There was once a land bordered by a deep and ancient forest, which was bordered by mountains so tall and treacherous, and so full of stories of terror and doom that none dared cross them, even though there had long been fables and whispers of a paradise beyond them.

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