Venus
February 27th, 2009 at 2:18 am by Colleen (Colleen's Poetry)
Ivory skinned, doe-eyed devastation.
A slight tilt of her head elegantly murders time
she sighs
We again exhale.
Yet for all the grace in her delicate, musical fingers,
happiness seems to slide through them – unclaimed.
She runs from desire, but baits it.
It is her wound and balm.
So quiet is her heartsong
muffled by trivial distraction, demanding patrons
and whiskey-soaked comfort.
Though her true worth is in the melody,
she fears the fleetingness of form and
desperately claws for purchase.
To many, she is cast in marble.
flawless, feminine and frozen.
To those who listen closely,
she is friend.
copyright cmiller 2-27-2009
Tags:poetry