my own death
vineyards of moons,
a shallow depth
of the sea,
Venus sinks,
I drowned and cried
in my sleep,
died like the ocean,
born in split
minds,
like the magenta
of mother’s womb;
a vortex of nothing
fair and bony
for the ghost
of mine does not grieve
these amputations of mind;
absence of the moon’s bare-
bones,
I see the lizard limbs
of the moonrise
as I weep
like the island.
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Written for the Free Verse Revolution prompt: lamplight terrors.
As well posted for the dVerse open link night.
