Requiem in Red- Aurora Phoenix

 

she etched an elegy

 

for herself

 

in her arm.

 

\it was not that she wished she were dead,

 

it was that in her heart, she already was\

 

with each draw of the blade

 

she eased mournful notes

 

skillful as a virtuoso violinist

 

from her love-starved skin.

 

this one, scratched doleful in minor D

 

laments a childhood forlorn

 

lost in the tumbleweeds

 

of mother’s hypodermic windstorm.

 

tentative lacerations mimic

 

the rent fabric of comfort

 

in which she was never swaddled.

 

that one, carved in hesitant desperation

 

released a cacophony of hushed howls

 

an orchestra of screeching duduks

 

protesting the predators’ parade

 

that prowled unguarded through her dreams

 

         day and night. –

 

cuts, breaking your heart if not

 

her parched and thirsting skin

 

berate the moon and sun

 

who sheltered her not, while each

 

beseeches the silent heavens

 

“was I not worthy of protection?”

 

 

 

she proffers her arm, bared

 

         as her anguish –

 

this belligerently fragile woman – child

 

as eloquent a threnody

 

as Bacon ever painted

 

\triptych over tendons\

 

her practiced insouciance

 

imploring you to care.

 

 

 

yes, assert your eyes

 

weary of caustic consternation

 

I will listen to your tales

 

\of hades and his dethroning\

 

 

 

you sketch her a thesaurus

 

lilting bagpipe harmony

 

reveille!  immutability

 


Aurora Phoenix is a wordsmithing oxymoron. Staid suburbanite cloaks a badass warrior wielding weapon grade phrases. Read more of her confabulations at Insights from “Inside.”

Author: Sudden Denouement

A Global Literary Collective

17 thoughts on “Requiem in Red- Aurora Phoenix”

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