IN SILENCE...

By Leon Smith

There’s a nebulous cloud across her face

And there it stayed since last we spoke

Shapeless words still bubbling in fire and cauldron

Only carving echoing death rattles like a bullfrog’s croak

She screams within my urges to seek the point my blood begins to curdle

Where her saliva stained the air with the familiar scent of petrichor

The vibrations of her vocal chords disrupt my molecular temple

As she bends her arched and crooked spine until the skin tore

Her hair floats weightless with the distant thrum of static

Her body spins a wild spiral like the fall of courting eagles

Still, she chokes my silence with hollow threats in powdered ink

And weaves around my grip like threading the eye of a needle

The fumes of her rage make my eyes bleed tones of a contaminated sunset

Born to wade through the grotesque, unsure whether she’s gifted or cursed

Her furious smoke suffocates everything held behind the iron bars of my ribcage

So the only lifeline is to lie flat like a dark age concept of Earth

Her fingertips bleed blackened ribbons of love, death and yearning

Anthologies slithered without a canvas by obsidian serpents

Her arm extends, fingers panicked, twitching in multi-syllable sounds

I meet her hand, where paper and muse become a convergence

Her voice, a divine seamstress stitching clarity from the madness

Sewing the frayed edges into embellished hems like appliqués into history

The pen becomes a solid structure, an obelisk composing grand mythology

My surrealist self rediscovered through drips of celestial mystery

There was a nebulous cloud across her face

And there it stayed since last we spoke

I dive into the abstract depths of her lyrical language

Where a knowing curve of her lips greets me as the darkness broke

Her words like primordial magic composing invisible waves of sound

Cause for weighing fact and fiction like shifting scales in sleepless states

Stuttering through thought impediments, she detaches me from physical form

And the ancient rhythms of her heartbeat - food for the soul on my cosmic plate

#darkpoetsclub