Kisses curdle in the old oak barrel
where memories linger just long enough
to change shape and shadow, and the peril
of time and shifting allegiances, rough
like sandpaper on old wounds, festering
with the too-slow healing of flesh and blood,
aftermath of bitter seasons. We bring
it on, eyes and arms open to the flood,
malefics we cannot define neatly
with unknown underpinnings that hold high
the lie and bluff, misinformed completely.
Mislaid lessons fall, drops of sweat, to dry
on the pillowcase, in lover's embrace,
as we come to face our jaded disgrace.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
on the pillowcase
Labels: 2008, sonnet, truth 0 observationsThe Amomancer Tweets!
Explaining the Tags
You will note, gentle reader, that all works under this blog now display "tags" to help classify and assign the works for your review and enjoyment.
These largely fall into 4 categories:
Year of writing, e.g. "1999"
Book published in, e.g. "from an unexpected quarter"
Inspiring muse, e.g. "Aubergine"
Genre, e.g. "erotica"
We are still in the process of cleaning up the tags, so please bear with us. Yes, some muses are classified under more than one tag, some poems appear in more than one book, or not yet in any volume, and some years are...hazy.
These largely fall into 4 categories:
Year of writing, e.g. "1999"
Book published in, e.g. "from an unexpected quarter"
Inspiring muse, e.g. "Aubergine"
Genre, e.g. "erotica"
We are still in the process of cleaning up the tags, so please bear with us. Yes, some muses are classified under more than one tag, some poems appear in more than one book, or not yet in any volume, and some years are...hazy.
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