Phantoms

Many years ago you gave me a bouquet of flowers

When I tried to hold them, they slipped away

Like sand in my fist, blown by the wind

Daisys they were, wild as summertime blackberry thorns

And just as sharp around the edges

As those thorns and barbs hidden in your words

Sank into my tender bits

 

You know, now that I recall that evening

Perhaps it was not flowers after all

It may have been a bag full of scorpions

Or a sweet scented dagger slid lovingly into my back

With a smile

Yes, maybe so

 

Time alters my perception, twists me all up into knots

Awaiting a man like Alexander

Who will cut through these redundancies with a smile

Like Gordian’s Knot he will flay my flesh

Cleave the want from the wilted

And pain from the laughter

 

But again, I digress

Wandering barefoot in my headspace

Distracting myself in revelations

Reminiscent 

Of A time when I loved you

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