Saturday, August 6, 2016

death becomes her

Death becomes her, 
a dark shape in her light colored eyes, 
defining who she is from the inside,
giving her face definition
the way shadow might,
giving shape to a life
she might not otherwise have,
and a feature to which
other people gravitate,
the nectar out of which
love is churned
the edges of joy
always fringed with agony
her life a true romance
a dance on hot coals,
and hotter hearts,
her feet blistered
from the passage
that allows her to 
find peace at it end
the ballet streaming 
bits of her love
like confetti in the air,
bits of her that catch fire
in other people's hearts
that time nor distance
can extinguish
fueled by that unphanthomable thing
residing inside
the shadow of death
she has lived with
her whole life
a dance partner
only she can see
which loves her
because of it

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