Personal Decomposition

Posted in quatorzain by maggie on 2010/04/22

I reach you when I fade into her black
creations, vertigo through swirling dearth
of substance, mud collapsing on its birth
into what word you took from her, attack

down to the core, with all the force you pack
into the slightest touch, its weight, its worth,
the life she buried, love your breaths unearth.
Along a fault line in my rock, a crack!

Yet never breaking through, you choose to hurt
as though still buried in your unmarked grave
with spaces of you there, a hollow cave
where rotting dreams push roots through clotted dirt.

    Her ashes, your contaminates, my dust?
    I'll make our world of nothing, if I must!


sonnet 6 in a prompted cycle of sonnets

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