she spoke emerald
she spoke emerald to me
with a tongue like a diamond tip- ripping
metaphors on mistake. saying it's best to be loved.
with sage lips. speaking vindication.
and she was screaming mementos.
like stolen words and vodka. turning the shades of grey
green. like the sentences she'd turn to dust.
and it's easier to be alive than to live. I'd whisper.
as her olive world turned my heart into an ocean.
and I say that I'd cry for her- if she didn't do it herself.
a viridian princess. monster like in demeanor.
when I tell her that her tears are so jade.ed
she breaks me. with ink blotters and idle hands.
and I want to ask her- if it's hard counting the willows
that weep for the believers. with their copper fingers
seeping verdigris and violence.
I want to speak.
but she's still singing for redemption.
so I'll let it be. as she speaks- green
© 2007 Jon Rodgers
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/98/94834 on Tuesday October 07th, 2008 11:31 PM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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