Monday, April 1, 2013

Truth Ventricle

~ Truth Ventricle ~

What we knew,
And what we never saw . . .
Is crying in deep red blood,
Yet, while the shining, glittering tear rolls down the woman’s face,
I caress it carefully,
And my finger-
Comes away red.
Yet my heart is wrenching, jerking in a cantankerous way that,
I would never be able to comprehend, if,
I was unable to rest my hand,
Upon her swine colored, pinkly flushed, slowly dying  face-
And something begins at that moment to cry in my own breast,
In wrenching gasps as I-
Fall forward,
Spiraling towards a dab of a hardened blotch,
That has crusted up and dried,
On my hand . . .
I open my palm gently,
And the vision of a tear-like drop, of blood,
Has fallen there to rest . . .

I look up at the midnight blue stars,
And feel my heart swell,
As I lay down to rest,
In the cold, dampened meadow . . .
Never really understanding,
How her tears turned into blood-
And I keep sobbing,
My hair, finally cascading in a gentle arc-
Around my shoulders,
And finally, finally- I lay her down,
And cover her up with a blanket,
While truth pumps through my own veins,
Pumping, coursing-
Now I see everything so clearly . . .
If only she had told me-
If only I had known, the truth . . .
I breathe a deep sigh to myself,
And lay down to rest, beside her . . .

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