#poetry
Ashes, Ashes
My hand trembles as I pick up the pen. Fingertips fray,
disintegrating into a sooty ashen mess; all those burnt
and broken bridges are making a break for it.
Ashes, Ashes
My hand trembles as I pick up the pen. Fingertips fray,
disintegrating into a sooty ashen mess; all those burnt
and broken bridges are making a break for it.
But the broken also carries beauty in the pain;
will you let me smear these ashes on your skin?
No blame if you refuse. I won’t fault you
if you answer no. I understand the reluctance
to accept the burden of another's shattered past.
will you let me smear these ashes on your skin?
No blame if you refuse. I won’t fault you
if you answer no. I understand the reluctance
to accept the burden of another's shattered past.
But if you’re brave, or curious, or something else,
I’m yours to smear as well.
© 2015 RC deWinter
Published in Talking River Review, the literary magazine of @LCSCIssue Issue 51, Fall 2021
I’m yours to smear as well.
© 2015 RC deWinter
Published in Talking River Review, the literary magazine of @LCSCIssue Issue 51, Fall 2021
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