Life With Horace

poetry & essays

Sans Bliss

3 Comments

We were long split atoms
even then the possibility of us
had ricocheted into echoes
competing thoughts composted
into a white sound mask.
Inexperienced, I flung my satin stole
of certainty over each shoulder
and stormed away, convinced
I was right, but too young
and wrong headed, ignorant of
the deeper dance of lust and love
that finally shook its head
and left to visit other lives
Leaving behind memories of touch
by tantalizing milkweed silk
of hearing a fluted thrush note
fading every time I would have
ventured back

____________________________
for S

Author: Life With Horace

Poetry & Essays

3 thoughts on “Sans Bliss

  1. More metaphors from science. You employ them so well.

    Like

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