Purple
Regal
plush
velvet
and
superfluous
prose
these hold no value
in my view
more clear
is the shade
that sent us
scurrying
to the sleeper sofa
on Circle Street
to avoid
our malodorous
fuming
mother
You bolted
straight up
a lightning REM rod
proclaiming
"don't get paint on the blanket"
before your collapse
back into
cudbear fleece
dreams
the nightshade
blossoms
over
your skin
in white waxy luster
regret
is as
inconsequential
as bloodstains
spattering the sheets
"it will all come out in the wash"
this
final
fabrication
burns
like
bleach
slowly eating
through
the tender weave
*Original Artwork - Jenny Astramowicz © 2019
Wow, this is powerful. The art and the poem.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteI like the dreamlike quality of your poem, though it still has a feeling that it's based on reality (or a memory).
ReplyDeleteAn ethereal yet strong poem, and your artwork is gorgeous!
ReplyDelete