03 Dec




As she levitates above the world

her body flutters as a hesitant apology

the pills dilute her eyes

her arms shatter the clouds turning columbine

like dying ghosts

like princes bored with quests and crowns

like crowds of empty news

like a slumbering blues song

like a friend you’ve taken to bed.

As she becomes an angry stutter

her hair dances as a slow obsession

the pulse drops into the rhythm of the waltz

her lips become the aeneous opiate of mirth

a virgin who slips her panties off

a mutinous somberness afoot

a lilac which once stood

a simplicity which was once appealing.

She braces for the fall,

which is faster than the world she never knew,

it never waits, it never loves,

it never became the one she wanted.

Wake up,

sadness never slept so well.


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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings

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