VOICES FROM THE FIRE: R. P. Verlaine

The Accomplice and I

 This journey of crimes 

imagined yet incomplete 

we’ve chosen to call love  

dares us to improvise 

traversing the unknown 

taking terminal risks. 

Hope slandered to ruins 

between purloined kisses 

the strangers we corrupt 

until desire’s arson cools 

with passage of time 

and endless repetition.  

All counterfeit truths 

we exchange in language 

foreign to compromise. 

Vandalizing logic 

that leap over ethics 

retraced with each step. 

These love transgressions 

only mark our return 

To our own stolen moments 

in picturesque locations 

swearing fidelity upon stars 

false as the truths we mouth.

A Second Chance 

 A dalliance you called it, with a sigh 

fraught with weariness as if it still stung 

by truths you detailed in that last phone call 

with words without distance from our false pride. 

And exit bows so embittered and numb 

years later, we meet surprised at the mall 

old wounds are balmed by reticent half smiles 

hiding no false hopes and few faint regrets. 

When we shadow the hawks as if they know 

the future circling skies in the great wild 

free to be foolish even circumspect 

I envy them but you say they’re shallow. 

Not having to grow up or understand 

loves varied paths as we walk hand in hand.

For Nico 

 So Inarticulate  

is beauty 

frozen in a spotlight’s  

flaunting fix.  

A drug 

for eyes  

seeking Inchoate  

cures… 

for boredom.

5 Stars 

(My)Schatzi/darling 

My blood  

pressure  

(Re )ally I tell her  

and she  

laughs/side (View)s  

to side she shows 

(Of)f/on piano 

playing with toes 

LIKE? she asks 

So little so young 

Tho Doubts still  

(Lin)ger, Yet  

I Say-YES/ 

in (ger)man:Ja!  

(ie )5 

stars.  

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