I wrote “Entrapment” today; “The Game” in October 2014; and “Dionysus” in August 2014.
Entrapment
Your face sits crooked in the mirror as I look askance
ghost image in the absence of reflections
the quietness of your voice
reverberating through pockets of memory
a thousand attempts to change direction
to lose your smile in twists and turns
but every path leads back to its origin
and there you are.
Something in me wishes
that the day the clocks stopped ticking
I could return
to the place I first
inhaled your scent.
But this time
should the wind have
carried it the opposite direction
I would not be searching for the last glimpse
of your eyes.
The Game
Like a bloom filled
to bursting with
honey-sweet
Like the air
packed with
particles
of sleep-inducing
chemicals
We dart in
and out
tasting
barely touching
this buffet
laid bare.
Everything exposed
for the taking
seizing
bits and pieces
by turns
not tandem
Tacitly
this is the game
how we fill
our desires
temporarily
But what happens
when the bloom
and the nectar
and the air
dripping with the pulse
of the tension
is eaten up
completely?
Dionysus
Leaves crackle
underfoot
as he
meanders
down
the last row
pruning clusters
of fragrant orbs
skins packed
to bursting
stopping
to bite
intricate flavors
explode
juice leaks
from the corner
of his satisfied smile
lifting his eyes
to the sun
low
on the horizon
late harvest.
Miranda Rey 