feathers, dancers & metal lust

A collection of poetry, flash fiction and other things.

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11. my swan

 

bring back her heart,

from the shallow grave,

i’ll mend the pieces.

her lost lovers, run from me.

 

pour my ashes,

back to one, complete.

the flames have burst.

the fire gone.

 

the elegance is empty,

sheer beauty,

passion gone from her,

damn this scrutiny.

 

since when was pretty,

perfection?

her imperfection and scars

were a better fascination.

 

the swan,

she dances on piano keys,

i am but a boy,

not man enough for her appease.

 

there’s a crack in my mirror,

chip in the glass.

violent bubbling in the street,

my blood on the grass.

 

since when was i violent?

i didn’t mean to punch your face.

clocks are ticking…

time to draw the ace.

 

something strikes me,

i cannot resist,

i guess she is meant for me,

but how long can i persist?

 

if she were to fly,

would i be left here?

burning questions,

i whisper in her ear:

 

my swan,

you dance on these piano keys,

i am but a boy.

am i man enough for your appease?

 

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