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  Dec 2024 Daniel Tucker
Nemusa
Bite down ******* my tongue, the hiss between channels—
shards of unspoken words rattle in my jaw,
half-born specters of what-could-be,
swallowed before they can crawl into light.

You.
You.
Carving hieroglyphs in the meat of my chest—
soft flame against black walls,
smoke signals I can’t decipher.
You unmake me with hands that don’t even know
what they’re holding.

Silence is a weapon.
Silence is a fistful of razors.
Fear grows teeth in the shadows,
glass splinters fracturing into weapons
before the crack, before the shatter.

And I keep it locked—this thing, this ache,
this soft, bleeding confession choking
on its own edges behind my teeth.
Because words are dangerous.
Because you don’t know the shape of my ruin
and I don’t want you to see
the mess of it spilled between us.

So I swallow.
Again and again.
And hope one day you’ll
read the maps I’ve etched
into the silence
of my breaking.
Daniel Tucker Dec 2024
We both agree that we want to keep it pure
as it used to be -- not a makeover or nostalgic
stroll, but unencumbered from what has been.
Uninhibited --
seeing our true faces anew.

When we seem to hurt each other we agree
that we only want to lift the heaviness that
weighs us down –
carefully shaping words to cut the strings

that drag the weight through the generations
so we can learn from past mistakes and not let
mutations mutate our love.
                                                           ­ 
Peace be still my love.
My peace is not here
as yet, but you have it within your reach.
Drop the weight
and grasp the lightness!

Maybe mine will come sooner if you stop
mourning my darkness and follow your own
light that has always been there--
sometimes hidden
behind the horizon--
but it has always been there.

Let it glow as it used to --
not human-formed
or reflected beams but uninhibited from what
has been. Not obscured, but seeing us anew.
          
Please see that I can see that you
have the power to be set free.
Then maybe my peace will arise within me sooner.
Then maybe my spirit and mind will heal sooner.
© 2024 Daniel Tucker

A poem from the living of my life.

NOTES:
This is a love poem that I wrote for
my wife. Poems on marital
relationships can be a sensitive matter. This is why I am adding these
notes. Firstly, this work does not
speak of physical or emotional violence. The 2nd stanza uses the word "hurt". In the context of this poem, it means working out problems in our relationship with complete honesty "carefully shaping words to cut the strings that drag the weight..." Again, 'hurt' in the context of this poem, is talking openly, honestly and frankly about what makes us tick; but we never hit below the belt (that is when it hurts!) We respect each other and are best friends. We've used this technique exclusively since we got
married in our teens decades ago. We just say it like it is to each other. But it is never dealt in a mean spirit.
  Dec 2024 Daniel Tucker
Nemusa
Would you still love me if the night spoke my sin,

if the ash of my mistake clung to our bodies,

if the wind carried whispers of my guilt

and our skin bore the scent of shattered stars—

would your hands still gather me from the void?
  Dec 2024 Daniel Tucker
Nemusa
Magnifying glass, a preacher’s eye,
You held it steady, watch the edges fry.
Her smile curling like a silent crime,
Promises snapping, one wail at a time.

Sirens call.
They call you home.

Cigarette burns where her lips once lived,
A paper throat, and you’re unforgiven.
The smoke uncoils like a serpent’s hymn,
In the ruins of her, your fingers swim.

And she’s tasting something holy,
A chemical prayer on her tongue.
While your stranger smiles slowly,
His palm says run.

Oh, you’re tracing lifelines,
Marking graves on borrowed skin.
Childhood shadows, beasts still whispering,
When no one could save her, where were you then?

Where were you then?

She claws at the mirror where her ghost resides,
Fighting sleep, fighting him,
Fighting years she thought she’d outrun—
Oh, but trauma’s a promise kept in blood.

And it’s no longer safe for you here,
Not in the ruins where her voice disappeared.
Sirens wail but don’t baptize.
A stranger’s smile, a forest gone numb,
And a ******* fire with nowhere to run.

No, no—
Nowhere to run.
Going through a rough time again, indecisive about whether to run away again and let it all go up in flames.
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