Loves Me / Loves Me Not

 I must now consider, I suppose,
that I have failed again
to do the right thing,
to puzzle out what's expected of me.

I didn't make your bed
deep enough, it seems;
and it's like you said...
before your head full of leaves
and purple-ebony hand on the grass.
Will I always fail you?
or can I fix us, at last?

My mind is a little spider on the edge of a cup
filled with blue rain where in awful dreams I scramble, 
all eight legs feeling in the air. 
You rose, didn't you, to exchange our different slumbers?
You came to me, down the path, softly disintegrating
though my anguish never does.
I breathe for both of us the smoky air of loss.

I have fallen short again, like a sky never holding sun rise,
a pale after-image, watery, foul,
not worthy of this place where grackles strut like Aztec kings.
I have brought the orchid, and the lily
to place in your eyes to disguise my ugliness with lovely visions.
Forgive me for what I have done, and how I have failed.
I am barefoot, like a twin
and will wait here--the least I can do--
making of your rags and sinews my costume of chains and rings.
_______

For Get Listed at Real Toads. I have used all twenty words.


 

Comments

Sherry Blue Sky said…
Oh my goodness, not enough eloquence to say how deeply i love this poem, especially the mind being a little spider, cup full of blue rain, legs feeling the air. Superlative.
Mama Zen said…
Love never dies. Oh, wait . . .
tonispencer said…
Nothing like a dead lover on hand. This puts me in mind of the Rollingstone cover with Jim Morrison in the front: He's hot! He's sexy! He's dead! I loved this
Kim M. Russell said…
I am amazed at what you have woven out of four little words, Shay! I love the one-sided conversation, particularly:
'I didn't make your bed
deep enough, it seems;
and it's like you said...
before your head full of leaves
and purple-ebony hand on the grass';
'My mind is a little spider on the edge of a cup
filled with blue rain where in awful dreams I scramble,
all eight legs feeling in the air'
and
'I have fallen short again, like a sky never holding sun rise'.
Old Egg said…
This is an incredibly sad but beautiful poem of loss and sadness, yet telling of a relationship that sadly did not work.
Debi Swim said…
Every word is perfect, every image exact and I love this:
"My mind is a little spider on the edge of a cup
filled with blue rain where in awful dreams I scramble,
all eight legs feeling in the air."
annell4 said…
I loved it all, each word. But when I reached the spider on the edge of the cup, it seemed to pause, take a breath, get down, get serious, what a write!!
Kerry O'Connor said…
Your poem is so much bigger than the listed words - you convey emotions which many have difficulty grasping. It speaks of the humility which is in itself an elevation of the heart that knows how to love.
Sioux Roslawski said…
Shay--This is the perfect poem for me right now. My mouth (my comments) seem to get me in trouble, and sometimes "sorry" is not accepted. A few of your lines really hit home.

And your labels... A little Elton John and a little Carole King?
Susie Clevenger said…
What beauty, introspection, heartbreak, regret pours through this. You made me feel the agony. This is so beautiful Shay.
Oh my. This is amazing.
Wow! That spider image is crawling around in my head. Every word of this poem is perfectly placed, and vivid enough for a painting to emerge.
angie said…
“Desperately seeking flowery eyes.” A brown-eyed Susan doesn’t compare to the lily and orchid. And it certainly wouldn’t fit in at a funeral. I love this poem. All it’s artful renderings of falling short. This is WHY I love It

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