White Orchids Face Down…

I am dressed in blue eyed wide imaginings
shaping each one to my breast.
Then slicing their umbilical I liberate their flight.
Ring out sweet merciless exposure soaked to the skin.
Red lipstick smears – alternating between sun and rain.
See how easily they drown amid the flotsam
aboard a red rose wood frame.
Fracture open this insanity – for who here
chooses to even know my name.
Move over, let me lay myself face down.
Or am I too late – pray what is the date?
How can I know?
As my time deluges on by.
My worn out flood gates they bow to the weight.
Left alone I slice myself irregular chunks of pain
wrung out from my body’s pitied rafters.
Will someone raise the lights offer me an interlude
– A prelude.
The atmosphere is upon me to cower and hide.
I did not desire my own name.
My retreat of safety line has gone absent without leave.
Should I now be amazed to be lost in this maze?
What concludes with death?
Outside the never knowing who sent me those
Orchids white…

moonroom

 

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