Prom Night

“My mouth is mentored by urgency;

a rapturous chalice making fast my heart,

I promise without choice, moreover a lock

than love,

wandering blind in the distance, drunk

on sentiment.

Doubting my adolescence,

I respect the placebo

if it punishes me artistically,

if it does not really punish me.”

 

She props her elbow up, tipping back the flask,

smudging the consequence, and rips her dress,

falling sluggish.

 

He breathes in the grass:

            “I am neither me nor you.

            Iseult, I have been intruded.

            My thoughts turn to cinder

            in the company of your eyes,

            and outside your heart, I am disguised

            by the lack of everything.”

 

“Is our world tonight Tristan?” She burps,

“should we compromise?”

 

Flicking his lighter, he resigns:

            “We will not exist tomorrow,

            and I fear the suicide.”

 

They unite

but tomorrow she wakes alone.

 

Her boyfriend had called her fifteen times.

             

 

 

 

◄ The Sculptor

The Art of Judas ►

Comments

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Andy N

Tue 15th Jun 2010 08:23

i agree with rach.. this is quality stuff! x

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John Togher

Mon 14th Jun 2010 22:34

Some great stuff here Marianne.

darren thomas

Mon 14th Jun 2010 22:16

“My mouth is mentored by urgency;.."

a great opening clause that demands we read more and this is rewarded when we get to - not least - "and outside your heart, I am disguised
by the lack of everything.”

Great writing once again, Marianne.


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garside

Mon 14th Jun 2010 15:06

reads like a roll of a die - thanks for sharing

Rachel Bond

Mon 14th Jun 2010 14:35

brilliant! cant select any parts as the whole is simply beautiful x

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