Not a flicker of iridescent tinge
Nor delicate prance on glary petal
Not even a thin proboscis sliding into flower’s trumpet
But the poise of wings between nearly closed and shifting apart
The lingering slurp of flower’s honeyed scent
Butterfly shadow casts stain upon the bud
Pledge of nectar lunch and tangle of insect sex
This is the moment
The camera catches and flaunts to
The raving audience
Disciples
Not the blare of the indifferent phone
Nor the hitch in your voice greeting a remote guest
Not even your left hand clenched over the mouthpiece
But the grunts of accord between rasped whispers
The brazen intimacy of your contract that cancels the one we wrote
Hollow of estrangement as I puzzle the errors, the vacant margins
That twisted us apart and you into a stranger’s embrace
This is the rebus:
While I gather the threshed chaff of our marriage
The doldrums of the ended call
Secrets
Not the words on your scaled lips,
Nor the wave of your hand as you turn to face me,
Not even the slump of your hip braced against the wall,
But the pause between those words,
The hesitation of what to consider and what to exchange,
The price of the bargain and the juggling of thoughts,
What will be revealed and even more, what remains eclipsed,
This is the signal:
The vacant sound of words not said.
You gamble all stakes,
Rook
Quiet I can bear, the silence of trees soughing in woods,
Of water shushing against the glass dust of distant sands,
Feathers that hush on their slow drift from soaring birds
To land with muted drop on sodden earth.
The strum of your mind as you motion me to hear you,
To value your story, embellished by impassioned account,
False speech crafted in the moment.
This is the detour:
A life beyond our marriage troth,
And I, the butterfly,
Betrayed
Heart image courtesy Pixabay.com public images
Comments on: "Into the Pause" (22)
Beautifully written. 🙂
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Thank you, Sharen, I appreciate your comment.
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You’re welcome.
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Now I’m blushing.
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*giggle*
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Giggles, yes, tears as well.
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Is there a poetry book in your future?
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Funny thing is, Jacqui, that I’ve never thought of myself as a poet and yet sometimes it bubbles to the surface and just sits there sunning itself. I may put together a poetry collection one day. But books first – I know you get it.
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Hollow of estrangement as I puzzle the errors, the vacant margins
That twisted us apart and you into a stranger’s embrace
Tears. Your poem stirred up painful memories, but it is worth it. Your prose leave me in awe. Sooo well done.
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Yeah, relationships can become so difficult. I think we all have painful memories. I’m glad you liked this, even if you felt a bit of that old pain.
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Wonderful, Sharon!
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Thank you, Kate.
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I’ve nominated you for the, One Lovely Blog Award, details are written on my site. XO
I can’t say it enuf…girl, you write good stuff! XO
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Thank you for the nomination and thank you especially for the incredible accolade you wrote about my blog.
I won’t be able to respond immediately as directed, but please be patient – I will nominate several worthy writers for this award.
Be well.
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You get to it when you can; I more than understand. It’s true, life speeds up with age, I turned around just yesterday and discovered Christmas is just two months away! XO
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❤
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Heartbreaking. Bitten, winded and wounded. The wreckage drifts one homeward, finding that of which you had forgotten. The truth becomes your homecoming. Safety is written on the razor’s edge. Surviving the betrayal rewrites all of your history.
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Yes, you are right about the wreckage. This was written a long time ago – some of the feelings have abated.
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May they continue to dissipate.
I work daily, understanding that I’m beginning all over, from square one, getting to know me. Betrayal steals every corner of what was once a united universe. I’m learning, for the very first time, who I am.
It’s never too late to start all over again.
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Your comments are like poetry – even simply comments are full of intuition and insight. A pleasure for me to read, thank you.
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Blushing like a rose…thank you, Sharon.
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You’re welcome.
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