Sour head speeches ram at these lips
Acrid words form igneous coatings
Protecting years of stunted lines
Fermenting under the thumb of a cork. it grows rich.

{like the wine in your glass the night I fell in love}

Incapable of escaping the confines of thought
Instead, red herrings fly about this room
Chirping and chapping a well rehearsed song
Twirling and twining a nest of inaccuracies

{you on a porch swing and me on chipped cement steps,
a bird’s song was the only thing that kept me from telling it all}

Like balmy summer winds-- bits of heat whistle out
When life-electrically stings in attempt to untangle the locks,
Slipping, hands dart to catch, barely inaudible brain sounds
Already too many natural secrets escape through the eyes

{self-betrayal pulses as a catacomb of secrets opens when my eye meets yours }

Unattended declarations always end up whittled down
Replaced by a woodworker’s false figurine to sell
A carve, a swipe any alteration to enhance
Shavings fall; eventually there is nothing left at all

{so many times I tried to stop cutting more pieces, wishing to
haphazardly glue it all back together, display me as I collectively am}

There is no marketable value for broken things
Only eloquent speeches get repeated continually
Usually, in just a few years time, intensity fades
But what of all the beautiful unuttered things?

{three years down, two months to go
I can’t imagine life with unspoken feelings
If you are not right down the road}

03/10/2010

Author's Note: another good reason for why writing is so hard these days...

Posted on 03/10/2010
Copyright © 2024 Kimberly Bowen