by Valerie Champion
Dedicated to Jaslyn
I could kill your daughter,
Splash life stream’s strings on the walls
where she is fallen, down
to eternal scuffed white. Watch the pale stains
Blooming, please don’t rise.
Links of my linen crosses
into silent cage prim and proper.
Oval egg lays quiet, soundless in the
Garden. Her Once Righteous rebellion shrunk into
ash stillness is hidden for noon-
Time, before it bleeds into mourning dusk.
dragged between once hateful joy
To endless, amorphous cracked sleep.
Gallantly displayed cadaver
freshly sewn for rows of contrary
Maids. Dropping teary blushes
and thorned petals. Hide the prince,
Sobbing and ambushed.
outside, his fellow racketeers pickle, dazed,
lost in vile smokes. Now detached
forcefully from mid-autumn mornings in
stank alleys, blindly spent swinging
cheap neon sticks to trap bonded sparkles in heat.
They can kiss their martyr’s switchblade crosses forever asleep,
Undone, she flung death into life’s face
Only to sink above.