Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Mag#150 The Post Office

image by Daniel Murtagh
The Post Office
The letter finally arrived
this evening's footsteps
tiptoe of a delicate beauty
satin on marble
 keys drop
pressed; she leaned against the door
as she learned
her husband-soldier's
1910 death roll
held in her left hand
 a deadman's listless letter
evoked the crosshairs
like a deer shot in mid-air
her heart stilled by acute anxiety
 captured by The Chromatic Constant
The Cosmic Camera
hers; a corollary;
a rip in the fabric anatomic
a sudden diaphramic rupture
so soon her raptured soul to envelope
her disembodiment
the forever moment frozen
 the breast never to nurse
she framed her bosom 'round
nipples hardened attention
 blush of the maiden semi-nude
 she'll never to let him down
her husband
her lover
 breast by Delacroix
the structure presented
a similitude
to the homefront
now abandoned
  pursed lips
never to kiss
other lovers pursued her
stalking her wanting her
in these hallowed halls
her looks can kill
recall the endless
Esctasy of St Theresa
a spiral jetty to the stars
so suddenly illumined
the Celestial Lights
her ghostly figure
 stillborn her life and dreams unborne
caught like a bird in a cage
her cold skin turned blue
the captive angel

her dark eyes follow your fear
distrust of her essen
for those
who plainly see
the fallen
earth angels
hqe felt the
sudden thud and crack of skull
  who can
 her striking figure now?

Thanks Tess~!

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