These unseeing eyes,
scattered lights and winks spread like wings,
searching through the litter for some unremarkable
object,
there she was,
as beautiful and unmistakable as a
corpse neatly laid out in a field of flowers;
If I said anything worth hearing, it was
missed, by both our care,
we could agree,
nothing said could erased everything
we said that lit the fire at the very
point we became undone
She returned carrying the belief in our own
glamour, the lie now much lighter now
that it was free from our combined efforts,
now present in her arms in its downright conceit,
in all grins of having destroyed, undoubtedly certain
of its ability to continue to destroy-
-looking at her, she was torn, shredded, a colossal
spectacle easily mistaken for some Goddess long
banished from all she’s known and ever will,
an orbit of helplessness,
where she’s likely to take anything offered,
even an elixir sure to kill her without any harsh
aftertaste, all afterglows from thenceforth-
-there’s no longer a correspondence to an dream
interpretation, no more a slight white where her
eyes use to attached to the back of her head when
every inch of me reaches into the ascending of her womb;
we are much more a vision as a smoulder,
the way the world treats us is a prejudice we
never have the affordability to mind,
my bluestockings,
our blues is not the end of us,
it is our new epoch-
-from [UnderStudies]
Dontrell Lovet't
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