IN HER CRAYON BOX

 

POET GIRL QUIETLY INTERIORIZED LIKE A GHOST

BINOCULARS PULLED HER IN TO THE BRINK OF DECENCY

LONG GONE HE STOOD BEHIND HER ACKNOWLEDGED OR NOT

TRANSCENDED AND EXALTED TO THE POINT OF NEAR DIVINITY

THE STRANGE PASSION THEY HAD SHARED WAS NEVER ORDINARY

HE WAS THE DRAMATIC ELEMENT IN HER YEARLY AUTUMN

THE TRUE MEANING OF POETIC TERRESTRIAL EXISTENCE

IN HER CRAYON BOX HE WAS VIBRANT UNBREAKBLE GOLD

About multiplemichael

"EVERYWHERE I LOOK I SEE IMITATIONS OF THE REAL THING"

Posted on October 29, 2012, in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.

  1. What an absolutely awesome last line. In a weird way reminds me of Donne talking about gold stretched to “airy thinness” and not breaking.

  2. It’s near Halloween, how come we are getting a love poem? I think I could take each of these lines and write a story around them. That’s pretty fucking cool.

  3. I said fucking cool, sir! Fucking cool!

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