When Geckos Call

~ pain like a glinting millipede ~

‘yearning for what cannot be’ acrylic on canvas by author

Blackplum drapes

hold

Gala apples

in a pewter bowl

spilling

opal shadows on white tiles.

Oh,

and did I head from a far corner,

monochrome

notes of a dreamlike

gecko call?

Yearning for what cannot be.

In these hours

quietude rests

in its sitooterie till

silenced angels rain down.

Then it flees.

Pain,

like a glinting millipede

prickles it’s way

around the headless torso

of our world.

Hooded in mock shame,

humanity

with a congealed fist

has defenestrated grace.

might it be remorse,

the millipede?

Tarred and captive,

terror-gagged and tarred

I watch my spirit