untitled, first reaction was "Oh my god, you did not just write that poem"
that's good enough for me
it was once so reprehensible
that ornate velvet cloak
but as her image shattered
into a thousand frames
there on the floor of the tub
skin splattered in
storms of resolve
an act not unintentional
the mess left for another's image
the slight reflection
of a finger print
exactly before the pain was spent
exacting the toll of a penniless soul
bent on self-demise
meant only for retribution
and lies
a past unclear
even in a thousand
sharp mirrors
pressing their truths through
her rivers of years
the letting ceased
ghostly pallor released
to march from dormant face
in a race
to the end of her space
the blackening demons chase
all around
crusting to blood-snow
falling to the ground
for another barren wind to
erase
Ellee 2001
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