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.”

17 thoughts on “Requiem in Red- Aurora Phoenix

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s