NaPoWriMo 2013 # 11...

‘The Climax’ Aubrey Beardsley 1893

the necrophilia of Persephone

I just want

to tear

her clothes off

find where

she smiles

feed her past

my walls

gong my knee

between her legs

with an ease of light

in low morning clouds

spreading an insistence

tell her how
I do so want

but I resist

while looking out

the window

at the cool, damp Dawn

smelling everything

from shrouded lust

to undying fire

Spring

out there

is waiting

to explode

the green

is a question

to some, an answer

to others

who are you

in a surf of ideas

battlefield cemeteries

with ghosts

whispering humanity

the trees know

as do leaves

roots and bark

to drink in all

of our time here

they long form

every civilized missive

everyone of our willful acts

they see the barter exchanges

they feel what a soul is

weighted down

they re-sell

our connective tissue

the parts of us

they send us on our way with

without much money or fuss

in our pockets

for our troubles

they count coins

we count rings

we both remember

birthdays

we save hair, here

our clippings and such

other parts even

whence death

doth arrive

we will then have many

macabre Victorian mementos

for sale in iron

the price of pomegranates

and our goodbyes

EJR ©