The tender
burgundy flesh
once within
this broken rose
has now
husked into
hawthorn & anger.
The dust
Miller’d
from past passion
is choking her
a little more
each day.
With nothing
to slake
the thirst of it
but bitter memories.
In a cobwebbed cage
of splintered trust,
and betrayal.
With bars
cruelly constructed
of self-pointing
condemning fingers.
She dangles, alone,
awaiting
‘No Pardon’
and plans No Escape.
Paul Tristram is a Welsh writer who has poems, short stories, sketches and photography published in many publications around the world, he yearns to tattoo porcelain bridesmaids instead of digging empty graves for innocence at midnight; this too may pass, yet. Buy his book ‘Scribblings Of A Madman’ (Lit Fest Press) http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1943170096
Neat. Thanks for sharing.
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