She Dies Without Warning

~ a poem for the muse ~

Image by exec on Pixabay

Today I watched

green silk curtains

turn a sour gold

then redbrown

of rusted blood

which ate fibers

like acid.

Silk came

floating down

frayed butterfly wings,

in bits then motes

strayed thistledown

far from home,

and I fell out of grace…

Absent portents.

No prescient heartbeats.

Forests and skies?

Without menace.

No raven tore at me

Not one leer from clouds.

Silk curtains came floating down…

Around my feet circled

a panoply of wraiths —

shreds of the entity

which through the night

glowed whole and incandescent.

The demiurgic throb of my being

lay scattered…

Gently

I will,

gently sweep

it all up

arms are a cocoon

warm breaths and tears,

its salted succor.

Once more

weave the unwoven

and hold the corpse close

till it awakens again.

Farida Haque

i write i paint i dream i weep

and so i am