Scarecrow (Round Three)

You wore those dresses, 
Like so many gardens 
Stitched like the smile  
Where your skin first kissed metal -
And where your love spilled 
Like the rains of the harvest.
But never you mind,
I'll garland you in guaze.

Beautiful bruises swell like the roses:
All purple and soft like your eyes,
Glazed and lovestruck.
They're all I needed to prove
That your love lay
In porcelain, cracked
Like your smile, all
Wasted away to the teeth.

Bared and clenching,
The milk that I gave you
Won't make them stop crumbling, 
But your belly, it swells up in joy, and
I hear your bones as they 
Rend themselves in two
And peek ever closer to skin -
So alarming - I see the love
Writhe in your veins.

Seasons pass, and
You soil yourself in the
Grass at my feet: a feeble
Offering, it trembles
And is still, but slicked
Up in your love, that trickles
Down slender legs. Your voice
As it whimpers is nothing like
The hymns I was taught,

But its breaking is beaufiful
Like nothing I ever heard.
Black eyes and fairytales 
Read during lambing, I kiss
On your collar, and clench till you love me.

And still your heart thumps,
But it aches to be freed,
So I pull back the bars,
And the love spurts out to greet me.

Those bones protrude,
So dainty, so eloquent -
I gave you a crucifix
And hay for your thinning hair.
I dressed you all up in my best duffle coat,

And now you scare vultures
From the last of our love;
Borne out of bruises
And ill-fitting floral print.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed