Her Poem

time and circumstance
holding force
on our union’s resting
turning harmony dissonant

when i listen
to the tones
of shrill cries
from passing stars

my efforts
to gain passage
are denied

left scarred
from having so misjudged
the heights
obscured by heaven
despite this heart’s bursting

still
i have felt
the shards of piercing
work their way into my song
words imbued
to shape the softened strings
that set this sallow soul
to brood

the day shall come
in the offset glow
of winter’s nuance
swept into
the undertow’s sway
where we will walk
tethered
in the hour
of silent prose

Defying Silence

fuck the ceiling, looming like tomorrow’s marquee
gaudy flashes from which i must turn
for within lies the ever-present artifice
skulking in dungeons of impulsion

fuck the floor, a cold mirage of hope
rife with arbitrary voids
no measured step bears relevance
pits of quicksand amid houred glass

fuck the door, weak and hingeless
prison cell of self-appointing or shielding from the shrill
one false waft of breath not bated
crumbling point of worlds divided

fuck the words, defying silence
skies of doubting look upon us
laughing in these measured steps
jarring with observant hues