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Coiled (Mature)

by Ken Harnisch

COILED (MATURE)

 

Wound as tightly as the springs

In an old watch

She infuriates all who dare come near

And are not her lover.

She yearns for his touch, some hundred

Miles removed, and the black flames lick

The caverns only he has ever stalked.

 

She throbs; were she a candle,

The incandescent glow of her could light

The next three houses over.

 

She barks at those who cross her; cries

For the silliest of reasons; longs

In a way only the Primal ever know.

Sometimes she enwebs herself in

The cocoon of her room, praying

Where the white hot shards

Flame altars that were once thought

Shrines to the ladylike and demure.

Her bed becomes

A furnace, and his ghostly presence the coals

That burn her kindling through the night

Then, temporarily uncoiled, she can sleep;

But she shall awaken, hungering anew,

In the hot and purple hour before the dawn.

12/30/2002

Posted on 12/30/2002
Copyright © 2021 Ken Harnisch

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kate Demeree on 12/30/02 at 09:30 AM

I have read this through more than once.... and each time I like it better. It Sizzzzzzzles I love these last lines.....Her bed becomes A furnace, and his ghostly presence the coals That burn her kindling through the night Then, temporarily uncoiled, she can sleep; But she shall awaken, hungering anew, In the hot and purple hour before the dawn.

Posted by Lori Johnson on 12/30/02 at 04:51 PM

Hot. *raised brow* I like it.

Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/31/02 at 07:57 PM

Excellent descriptiveness throughout Ken. Kept be captivated not only the next three houses over, but the entire block!!!

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