Fragile

I love your voice. 
It curls around me
like smoky incense,
Arouses me
even as you speak of
oil changes and new tires 

I love your laughter. 
It froths like uncorked champagne, 
Contagious, flirtatious
fusing the space between us.  

How will I live without you?  

You spoke the language
of poets and songwriters
Smooth, sweet, rich
I savored fine chocolate;  

but I was mortally wounded
by your darkness
spinning out of control
on the tail of a comet
self-doubting and gloomy
abysmally lonely
terminally angry
rejecting that voice
deflecting that laughter
until the system pinging ceased.  

I have been so busy hating you for so long
I forgot how much I love you.

 (c)2008 Lucie Raposo - All rights reserved (republished 2022)

Drowning

 

You've dropped from view
afloat no more
sucked down into the icy maelstrom
of your creation,
leaving broken puka shells
in the coral rubble
and petrified driftwood
in your wake.

Your wake.
You lie
like the rest of the dead.
A painted corpse
reclining amid forsaken anemones
plucked from gardens of guilt.
"Not my guilt," I vow
from my gilt castle above it all.

One last look at the churning sea,
and I turn from my window
to curl before the glowing fireplace.

(c)2008 Lucie Raposo - All rights reserved (republished 2022)

Criticism

Don't hate me
for fulfilling your expectations of my failure.
I am obedient, eager to please.
My self-hatred basks in your revulsion.
I burrow for your disapproval
like an infant roots for the mammary.
Negative energy stokes my engine of laziness and inhibition.
Shrouded in procrastination and paralysis,
I hide under your laden table,
picking crumbs of judgment and derision from the carpet.
Do not step on my fingers;
I use them to spin yarns and knit tales
of despicable adoration and nihilistic ritual.

Sting me again;
there is one spot on my shoulder
not yet swollen by your venom.

 

(c)2008 Lucie Raposo - All rights reserved (republished 2022)