(no subject)
You told me one day
I could cry so much my sleeves would be soaked scarlet
that you still couldn't bring yourself
to close your mouth, to stand still as mountain pine
and you, so arrogant
scoffing, as if your pale arms and glacial quiet
could ever hold a challenge to my violence and unease
always moving, never stopping, always the grab of missed throw-
you'll put yourself off balance
your movement as graceful as a knifefight
her hands in the quiet, darkness thick like liquid
pale butterflies, quick as heat lightning
you were wrong when you lifted your white arms to the sky that day
there was blood in the snow....
the crack of gunfire, your hands knotted with dirt
her breath in the air
the white horse....he was dancing......
until you come to me in the dark of winter
whisper in that perfect ear
stay quiet, you'll sleep silent now.
I could cry so much my sleeves would be soaked scarlet
that you still couldn't bring yourself
to close your mouth, to stand still as mountain pine
and you, so arrogant
scoffing, as if your pale arms and glacial quiet
could ever hold a challenge to my violence and unease
always moving, never stopping, always the grab of missed throw-
you'll put yourself off balance
your movement as graceful as a knifefight
her hands in the quiet, darkness thick like liquid
pale butterflies, quick as heat lightning
you were wrong when you lifted your white arms to the sky that day
there was blood in the snow....
the crack of gunfire, your hands knotted with dirt
her breath in the air
the white horse....he was dancing......
until you come to me in the dark of winter
whisper in that perfect ear
stay quiet, you'll sleep silent now.