His Name – A Poem


His Name

There, underneath the dining room table,
she calls out his name,
silently so no one can hear
the sound of her voice
delicate and breaking
soft and fragrant like the petals
on the peonies she grows.

Within her breast she feels him
and she dances and twists within herself
a ghost of hot breath
on her vacant skin.

The rug scratches her arms
her legs bend and she kicks the table
knocking the empty plate
and glass
to the ground
to the brown carpet full of regret
and memories,
disappearing in the woven fabric.

Honesty is the companion of selfishness
a championed virtue
brightly dressed in regal gown
and beneath
a hollow soul
dark and consuming
and she in mournful absolution
makes conscious her disdain
when, in breaths no more forceful
than a child’s leap
through a sprinkler
watering the naked garden,
she calls out
his name.

10 thoughts on “His Name – A Poem

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s