Reanimated Lavender Granola Switchblade Nun rides again.

Friday, October 15, 2021

Letter To My Indifferent Love

 I loved you. Forgive the triteness of my tongue,
I'm not the husky-voiced Delilah that I was when I was young.

Poor gentlemen, when we harpies hand 'em
our hearts like letters stuck in tandem
by a bit of glue from horses rotten
sidesaddle ridden and wrongly gotten

Like you, dear sir,
when life was kind 
leaving apple blossom 
scent behind

When red curls fell,
escaped their pins,
while apple cores
curled brown in bins

I loved you. Please pardon my hand laid on your sleeve
as delicate as a caught disease.

Poor object of my heart's desire,
though altered, I'm yet yours entire,
no stepping back and calling for Jesus
I don't think one so holy can see us.

I loved you. As red-handkerchieved consumptives do
the dry air of their coffins, too.

for The Sunday Muse #182, where I am hosting.


  1. This poem is as intricate (and fascinating) as Celtic knotwork, stylized snakes of images weaving in and out in graceful curves, and only hinting at the poison they carry. I especially love all the couplets, and "as delicate as a caught disease." is masterly. Your tags and title , too. How the past is always with us, and the snows of yesterday, however yellow, never seem to really melt, yet curled brown apple cores and consumptives' breath tells a tale with more rot and less permanence. I love this entirely, Shay. Poe would weep with envy.

  2. You tell a tale in eloquent nuances!

  3. I saw in your labels you put what I was about to say this reminded me of, Death Becomes Her. This is wonderful on so many levels; the rhyme, the voice, the images and the list goes on. I love this so much my friend! Sometimes our youth is haunting. It follows us like a ghost, yet our feet move too slowly to get away. How you captured the feel of youth, age and what haunts us, is utterly brilliant!!

  4. magic in the tale weaving - there is more than what is hinted at in the lines, a slight bitterness biting through - but double-edged sword, who wears the cloak of shame, disgust - such as it is, such as we are - forever human, constantly tripping ourselves and each other up .... and what exactly is endurance; I believe it was Kafka who said "the more we love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is" ...

  5. Shay- I love the entire poem, but this line really stood out to me: 'I loved you. Please pardon my hand laid on your sleeve
    as delicate as a caught disease.' Stunning!

  6. +1 "delicate as a caught disease" but I really liked the red curles and the brown apples. Subtle, evocative.

  7. Oy. This is IT - the whole shebang, so finely wrought. Wow. Took my breath away, as you so often do. Phenomenal writing.

  8. I feel this is a love that also goes on forever. It's so vivid and at times seems sweet but then the chill sets in. Nice spin on the image!

  9. "as delicate as a caught disease." Slam bam in the era of Covid19 what a line!!!
    happy Sunday


  10. Love deeper for some than for others - a wonderfully gothic picture with a whiff of menace.

  11. Thanks for this wonderful horror show of a poem. I agree that love "as delicate as a caught disease" conjures the ghost...but I love the link of the beauty of apple blossoms with the desiccation of apple entire haunted festival breathes through these lines.

  12. I latched onto the same phrase. I can't think of a more powerful litotes, or a better way to encapsulate that thing called 'love'. ~

  13. What a magnificent poem. It is beautifully dark, and hits with power. Love the tag too "falling in love with scars."

  14. Darkly elegant. These were gems:

    "I loved you. Please pardon my hand laid on your sleeve
    as delicate as a caught disease."

    "Loved you. As red-handkerchieved consumptives do
    the dry air of their coffins, too."


Spirit, what do you wish to tell us?