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A handful of Quills

by Scott Cadence




The possible scenarios forgot us
in realm of Celtic knots
and slipping tongues
twice removed from the plot

I am left red stained
and tattooed in new times roman
stagnant between the pages of books
only used for pressing roses

I felt your eyes on my neck and down arms
as you read the story in my skin -
I smile at your attempts to use heat and sweat
to transfer the idea of me onto yourself

How you tried to adjust me
superficial like a hair that was out of place
descending like the light that was all wrong
for taking pictures

Ended up smearing beginnings with middles and ends
plagiarized my love scenes in the bed of another
and butchered the details that once exploded
like land mines in the night

How will you ever step any closer toward the truth
never knowing the value of love’s mobility
when I’m still buried deep in your memory

How can I be open like a book for you
never wanting to be put down
when you come with a handful of quills
and heart-filled invisible of ink

02/10/2005

Author's Note: we'll see if I still like this in the morning... :)

Posted on 02/10/2005
Copyright © 2024 Scott Cadence

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Meghan Helmich on 06/10/08 at 08:35 PM

"the pages of books only used for pressing roses"

i love it. i have books like that, too.

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