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| The New York Optimist March 2009 |
Eve: Poems
| An exclamation point Stuck in the form of a question mark With potential to be a flawlessly structured sentence She is caught in the rush of a run on Scattered thoughts buzzing at the tip of the pen Flowing ink leaving stray marks An essay yearning to be a poem A novel needing the spotlight of an acclaimed play A proper noun enslaved by eloquence Wishing for the excitement of a future tense verb Grammatically dazzling Yet streaking the page with the indecisiveness of an ellipsis Drowning in cumbersome words of fact She craves the naïve simplicity of a fictitious fairytale Bring me back A cycle of monotony Stumbling into my own trap How to pick the lock When I myself have already swallowed the key Every moment seems unfinished An echo of someone else’s dream The past is set in stone And future cloaked in doubt Because blissful moments are suffocated By ambition’s vicious grip Is there strength enough To bring me back She is a well spun lie Yet he dares not conceal Refusing to play a role in her charade He magnifies the imperfections of her hips And sees each blemish on her pallid skin Harsh honesty leaves blisters on her ego For he cares not about the covers of magazines that she wishes to grace Her reflection appears within his smooth facade Woefully identical to the one which preceded He removes the veil of deception Leaving her naked and exposed He undresses her effortlessly And she does not resist the criticism Because no one else has ever been as honest She is tarnished by him By the truthful mirror |
