Lost Goddess
She, who is weak
of blackened edges.
In the foot of flames;
I am warmth.
Embers lick ankles; unworthy.
Listen to the screams! Unholy whores
rancid smoke. She is not herself.
It could be everlasting. I am not tired here.
The Empty Parts of Fault
A moment of softness; want and whisper.
“Please, leave something at my altar.”
Begs busted lips curved around teeth.
Longing for time
brought the light of ugliness.
Not bodies colliding, not the back and forth.
Bruises lace her neckline.
When things made sense,
I never wanted this.
How dare you blame me?
Pulled by currents
seconds between reaction and response.
I choose caressing hair and ripping out her throat
Comments enclosed! Welcome back and what a read!!!
Echoing everyone else, glad to have you back (please don’t take my horrible late comments as indication otherwise.)
Lost Goddess
I’m not sold on the switching between third and first person. I enjoy the slant between embers and ankles, but the following that with the echo in unholy whores stands out. I think in this short of a poem having that parallel of unworthy and unholy which then overlaps with that strong, direct, and immediate rhyme juts out too much for me.
The Empty Parts of Fault
In this one, I feel the switch of third and first person works, as that becomes a turn in the poem in a surprising way or realizing we’re looking at the victim through the abusers eyes, and that blame being cast on her feels all the worse through that vantage point. I’m curious how this would feel without the final line. Not just to make it all parallel in tercets, but to then leave that consequence open ended. We’re in that vantage point of the abuser, let our own mind finish that last moment from that vision.