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Coiled (Mature)
by Ken HarnischCOILED (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 © 2024 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.
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| Posted by Lori Johnson on 12/30/02 at 04:51 PM Hot. *raised brow*
I like it.
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| 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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