Tuesday, December 28, 2010


The floor is waxed

Time is now dust

We dance

I hold her body close to mine admiring the smell of vermillion wine

Her bones unsubstantial and limp while I lose all control

We circle the stage returning from where we both emerged

crushing our fingers tight while we dance the wooden floor

Her body still lose and delicate in my hands

I waltzed her through the dance while she remained stiff and uncertain

Soon enough her passion shines through red

Her twirls become violent and intense

I jerk her body some more to keep up with her fiery dance

Taking me on a blazing journey circling the stage

No longer subdued and flat, she attacks me brutally

crushing our hands in a intense tango she calls gentle

I was loyal and yet distraught

She became turbulent like the wind

She strived for something more while her hands reached to the ceiling while I held her high

High enough to touch the beaming lights above us

Faltering near the end of our painful song that out stood us

Her jerks pushing me away from our act

I hold on tighter to her because soon my feet would transfix

She is rough as man and brutal as woman

almost a tran-sex of something beautiful and vividly exquisite

She now

Lets me fall

I hit the floor silently...

head down and body cavorted into nothingness

She dances away to another..

who whisked her away into a a bolivian of darkness in which she calls hate

My bone is torn

I look up to see her glide to me like a creature from the heavens circling around my broken body

She knows soon, I will die..still she does not help me up

She dances the way I showed her and explores the confined place in where I lay

She plays me like a harp, string by string, pulling my heart like quills on a sing..

-ing bird...

Dying at the foot of her once close partner

She stabs me in chest

So I can look in her eyes and see it

The affliction is like no other, the pain is unbearable

She dances away

into the darkness

of her own..


Tortured and tormented I die

Hearing the grand piano

playing that last key..

ever so softly

by Tia

1 comment:

  1. That's beautiful. Lol it's been a long time since I've written poetry.

    I like the words you chose for this, it's very illustrative.