Seven Times #97: A Broken Egg


 

Golden with words for you
From it’s open door
To the tears on your cheek
Hands Holding Hands
Under the table
Blushing, Breathing
Was it your birthday?
With her chest pushed out
Heavy and Heaving
And her lips on my neck
Her hair in my fingers
Then she’s gone
Back to her picture
Back into her coffin

The ocean lulls in the silent silver air
While life sleeps in what’s beneath
The ice continues melting under the feet
The fire glows turbid upon the face
An orange blood in the veins screams
The tools needed to succeed
The eyes of someone always on your back
The lightbulb breathing a Christmas Carol Name
My Silent Night

What is your name?
Can you hear the change?
Will you see the diving board
Before your nose dive?

And a voice echoes in your heart attack
Singing to touch you one last time
To feel the rain on your bare skin
The wind kissing your naked hide
A door that is opening up for you
To go somewhere you used to know
Honey dripping from the hive
The thick sweet lava on your tongue
In the flight to the shores of the moon tonight
 

Andrew Borne is 2 Cups Poet 1 teaspoon Musician 1/4 teaspoon Salt 1/2 cup Absurdity 3/4 cup Chef 1 egg, beaten 2 1/3 cups Family Man. Mixed together and served raw. His column appears weekly in Oddball Magazine.

 

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