Off Topic: Today’s Verse 75

my face goes out like a street light,
bulb fizzles into a hundred pieces,
each shard a facsimile of her torn spirit,

she could not fathom it,
she only felt the sight of your retreating foot steps,
she could not conceive of it,
that you would return in a fortnight;

no food in her belly,
no joy in her eyes
any comfort from the ostriches
was taken with a heart blind

when that fortnight ended
and you scampered into her bed,
there lay the shell of your friend
lungs expanding by a sunset whisper

it grows cold like a lifting fever
dreaming of saving the elephants
dancers in the dark,
still dancing

we weep like orphans too
only our abandonment won’t be for ivory
our death won’t be to fill the pockets
of the lost transfixed on luxury

my countenance crashes into a jellico cat
on every midnight dreary.

— yiqi 16 july 2014 10:06 pm

Inspired by My Wild Affair.

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