Collision

Collision

Before the collision their two minds had danced very close.

He saw her masks and the forms she took had filled the void within him.

The earth shook with the beat of their hearts as their lips sang beautiful maladies.

Their transparent thoughts were filled with light that no one else could see.

Sometimes they cried but, mostly, they drank, doused in the cold fire of anesthesia.

The ghost of her thoughts echoed in eyes as deep as any ocean.

He swam in them with awe and fear and sank just like a stone.

Tangled in waves of midnight hair, they drowned in one other.

And forgotten by all but the white of their bones, they slipped beneath the waves.

©️ JM Tiffany

Sunrise

In the early morning quiet I listen to the clocks echoing each other’s rhythms.

I sip my coffee and gaze at the lake, a dark mirror reflecting stars too lazy to set.

This looking glass also reflects my thoughts: a flock of restless birds that circle and circle.

As a knife of pale pink carves the horizon, my mind is full of thunder.

In this moment of great peace, I am a storm.

I fill myself with a gentle wind and blow the clouds away.

As the Sun rises in my head, she kisses me warmly and all the world glows.

©️ JM Tiffany

Swallowed

Half naked and robbed of promise, I fell like Autumn.

Rage and hurt tightly clenched in an aching heart, I was tortured for peace, the coiled viper of my hostile thoughts waiting in silence.

Like leaves on a river, desires and fears became entangled until slowly we sank together.

I could see the vivid color of the world bursting forth, the yellow warmth of the sun still rising.

Our eyes closed in passion, we slid ghost-like and became invisible.

The Summer had passed so quickly.

How joyous we had been. Golden and untouchable until mutilated by words.

Then, we fell further down, like drops of blood, until tired and numb, I collapsed to my knees.

Something within had stirred the poison.

I remembered who I ought to be but the wounds were slow to heal.

On a deep raging river of glistening tears, the souls of the dead were drifting away and I was the last of them.

She walked away then.

I saw the scars I had made, each mark a memory of ruin, and I knew my story had swallowed us whole.

©️ JM Tiffany

Faith Is A Zombie Lover

I did not lose my faith, it was dismembered  and scattered  in a field. It’s flayed body, bloody and wrent,  was tossed  upon the land and swallowed  by the earth.

In the Spring it returned, naked, shivering, and smeared with muck.

“I though you were dead,” I said.

Eyes wide, it regarded me, “I was not dead, but your world was cold as I slept.”

©️ JM Tiffany 

The Red Queen

She’s the Red Queen. You may think that’s metaphorical, but I know it’s true. There is crimson glass everywhere. Everything drips with scarlet. Everything sharp is lacquered in blood. Her lips are sharper still, but soft and sweet between the cuts

©️ JM Tiffany

November is Winter half-dressed and leaning seductively on October’s tomb.

©️ JM Tiffany