Breath & Shadow

A collection of my poems, some dark, some on the lighter side, some new, some previously published, and some I like to call "Brautigans," after one of my favorite poets. Hope you'll enjoy them!

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Author's note

Copyright © 2018 Antoinette McCormick

All rights reserved. This e-book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review.
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10. Neverafter (Paradelle)

 

I remember the perfect symmetry of your foul poison.
I remember the perfect symmetry of your foul poison.
Red and heavy, always hanging on the lowest, blackened branch.
Red and heavy, always hanging on the lowest, blackened branch.
Lowest on the heavy, blackened branch, I remember, always
Perfect and poison, the foul symmetry of your hanging red.

Not a crystal casket, not a rhyming glass.
Not a crystal casket, not a rhyming glass.
The bed cold, the sheets peculiar.
The bed cold, the sheets peculiar.
Peculiar, the glass casket, the cold sheets
Not a rhyming crystal, not a bed. 

No kiss can mend a century of winter.
No kiss can mend a century of winter.
I escape this cage of bones to slay the princess.
I escape this cage of bones to slay the princess.
A century of winter, this cage of bones, I escape 
To slay the princess no kiss can mend.

Heavy this casket of blackened bones.
Not a kiss and not a bed: the perfect symmetry
Of the glass sheets, of the crystal cage no rhyming
Can escape – poison, princess. To mend
The foul century, I slay the winter. I remember
Hanging on your lowest branch, always cold, red, peculiar...

 

I remember the perfect symmetry of your foul poison.
I remember the perfect symmetry of your foul poison.
Red and heavy, always hanging on the lowest, blackened branch.
Red and heavy, always hanging on the lowest, blackened branch.
Lowest on the heavy, blackened branch, I remember, always
Perfect and poison, the foul symmetry of your hanging red.

Not a crystal casket, not a rhyming glass.
Not a crystal casket, not a rhyming glass.
The bed cold, the sheets peculiar.
The bed cold, the sheets peculiar.
Peculiar, the glass casket, the cold sheets
Not a rhyming crystal, not a bed. 

No kiss can mend a century of winter.
No kiss can mend a century of winter.
I escape this cage of bones to slay the princess.
I escape this cage of bones to slay the princess.
A century of winter, this cage of bones, I escape 
To slay the princess no kiss can mend.

Heavy this casket of blackened bones.
Not a kiss and not a bed: the perfect symmetry
Of the glass sheets, of the crystal cage no rhyming
Can escape – poison, princess. To mend
The foul century, I slay the winter. I remember
Hanging on your lowest branch, always cold, red, peculiar...

 
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