quiet morning

i see your name
atomized,
in a permanent dance macabre of letters,
parching the paper with their lingering lead touch,
conveying a certain melodramatic air to the venomous sand
embroidered
sometimes with the ice flowers of your voice
and other times with the soft smile of darkness
blooming inside my clock.

do you feel as i do
the heaviness of dawn over the eyelids
when by night words possess me
and when against a black sky tainted with red clouds
the moon travels imperfect
uncaring of my gaze pinning it?

i see your tear
dead,
staining with hushed reasons your calligraphy
and sealing with its silence
my lips.

and in my cup of tea
the slice of lemon floats
on a sugarless surface…

tom balch
Stunning work Liliana, wonderful poetry.

Chaos1214
like a stark watercolor, coldly beautiful. I ain't forgot your cover. Work proceeds apace : )

spysgrandson
again a slow dance of synesthesia and other delightfully stimulating word combinations