The Man Who Hated Embraces

Poetry, WritingLeave a comment
Like a spring shower,
anticipated,
dense with desire,
she entwines herself
around his back.
 
Burnt by Holy Water,
with no coins
to waste for charity,
penitence, or grace,
he pushes her away,
disturbed, awake, solid.
A church, a cenotaph.
The Law of Moses.
 
He is in mourning.
For the loss of himself
to another.
This grief is
insurmountable.
Time is of
no consequence.
It shall not pass.
 
Her fingers,
dainty daggers,
continue to neatly rip
his shelter to shreds.
Searching for the bones,
the liver, the heart,
the biological essence
of his immovability.
The pineal gland.
The Princess
and the Pea.
 
She understands.
Union is impossible.
This pain is
insurmountable.
It shall not pass.
 
His grief
and her pain
are now
in a dance.
 
The music is
indeterminable.
It could be a tango,
a waltz,
or a Mass.
 
And, in a heartbeat,
all shall pass.
 
© Milana Vujkov, The Man Who Hated Embraces, 2012

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s