Hurt and pain are funny things
It is the laugh and cry of children plucking wings
Death and decay are such dark matters
Mineral deposits carried by half sharpened daggers
Agony and defeat are often told lies
Exposed by sheer will power just to survive
Thunder and rain carry such things
In fractals of light and harsh vibrating rings
Portions of select silence in quiet abodes
Leaves a beggar content and an actress seem bold
Sipping on tea leaves often quite say
Enjoy this last moment of your last day
Cruelty not in words which commandeers intention
Plans thrown above and gazed through reflection
A burning white flicker startles direction
Only unused senses can clap your attention
A semblance of eloquence quintessence had signed
Dancing in a ballroom my hand on your spine
Your eyes on my trust my feet places touch
I lead you away from pleasure from lust
Here we both drive to make this last chance
Quick movements of feet and flashes of dance.
Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.
A very tight poetry. I enjoyed it thoroughly.
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