Dried Pen

My anger soaks me;
Leaflets floating to ground
With script precisely writ.
Daggars fly;
Pen dries and is again dipped
To lay out my pulsing veins
That have taken hold
Each cumbersome breath,
Each suffocating exhale,
And filled my hand with poison.

I dare not touch again.
Yet yearn I do so much
For even a deadly touch
So soaked in yearning’s pulse
That I feel
Faint throbbing at my neck
To gasp at last
A breath so soft
Anger’s taken leave
My life.

Dark Gates (day 2337)

In that moment the suitor realized
He had made a dire mistake
Misjudged an ear for kindness
A soul for humanness
Misunderstood dark gates
And silent patience
As partner to his own heart.
He lay there spent, exhausted
Given as if fire: burnt
Yet still she craved for more,
Yearned for more,
Asked for more, yelled for more,
Of which he had none left.
She reared her head like a wild stallion
Naked at the breast
Flushed with rage and rapid coldness
She grabbed her icy dagger
No choice but to accept the sentence;
Suitor was no more.

North Sea Queen VII by Doreen Broers
North Sea Queen VII by Doreen Broers (ig)