"Breathe catch your breath
        don't move, be still
nothing in the world
        can touch you now I am here."
      That was the last promise you left me with
           your arm over my shoulder
                  my head falling to your chest
      the slow beat of your heart
          held me still, rhythmic ticking
time passing at once serene, not rushing
                my tears settled themselves
            in the oversized t'shirt I usually
                sleep soundly in.
  But I awaken to a new dawn
                   and you're gone.
        It was just a dream,
                    just a ******* dream about you.


© Sia Jane

Twisted lullabies
believable truths
open wounds
cleansed to revive
a concave heart
convex in the mirrors
of a child's clown
playground of distortion
whisper my name
keep me in the frame
there's no way out
of this fixed full game
question her love
her guilt feeds my pain
never one to lose
why'd I ever enter
the labyrinth of lovers
hearts beating and folding
her on one end
me over the over
each step I smell her
her scent my guide
walls so high a secret
garden enclosed my soul.

© Sia Jane

---

"There was someone that I knew before
A heart from the past that I cannot forget
I let him take all my gold, and hurt me so bad
But now for you, I have nothing left of all my gold."
Bat For Lashes - All Your Gold

My beautiful, darling, angelic Isla.
My heart is crying a thousand oceans tonight, and it will for days, weeks, months and years I am sure. For over 12 years you were one of my best friends.
Not a day passed when you did not ask after me, support me, or love me.
If the heavens could ask for a perfect friend, they would choose you.
In all those years we never once fought or argued.
You were only ever the strength that completed my need for a back bone, which enabled us ultimately to both get through and fight through life.
To know, as with Elin, you have taken your life, I bleed for you. I ache. The pain is so deeply embedded in my chest that I find myself gasping to even breathe.
I will probably write to you a million times over, knowing that in your place of safety you are talking back at me, sitting by me, answering my prayers.
I am beyond devastated you took your life, one so young, and yet I also know that, despite endless fighting, your demons would not rest. That was never your fault. Your past was never your choice or fault. I love you with all that I am, and I know, every day, you are with me.
I feel you here as the tears hit my cheeks and drip on to the keyboard.
I could never replace you, change you, or ask more of you.
Thank you.
Thank you for gracing my life and saving my life, many times over.
How will I be without you my darling… with me. With me. That I know. I love you, and may you rest in safety, security and love.
All the things you so desperately craved from this world so cruel to you.
Rest in peace princess.

© Sia Jane

you want me to write poetry that doesn't twist a heart
to write poems of love and the beauty that exists within it
you want me to write like I used to and explore the depth of love I feel
to write poems about how beautiful it is to fall in love and to lose oneself
you want me to write and write and never stop writing because it is my savior
to write the poems you so love to read and the ones that made you feel so special
you want me to keep smiling and loving and being happy
to write poems of my joy and happiness and the life that makes me feel so alive
you want me to be a person I no longer feel I can be and who is sad more than happy
to write poems that are joyful and graced and not laced with deceit and rejection
you want me to not feel sorry for the awful guilt I bestow on you for not feeling this way
to write poems of only the amazing bliss that true love graces us with
you want me to be me and yet being me means I love you and to love you is pain
to write poems which don't contain the pain my heart feels and will never heal
you want me to carry on regardless not holding back moving forward loved
to write poems of a new love of one I may have met or may not have met
you want me to let go when all I do is cry
to write poems that are cathartic
you want me to not hurt
but can you not see
all this does
is hurt me

and what hurts me more is that you want me to write poems
that don't contain hurt and pain because
love is beautiful
and I agree
it truly is

but this is pain
and it hurts me more
knowing you don't
ever
want me to hurt
not ever.

I am simply
stuck
         in
             love
with you.


© Sia Jane

I would not recommend Madness
      

                 distrust runs riot
dissecting myself with wings clipped deemed a flight risk
and I'm naked lay face down on the bed
and I trace tramlines
                                     of forgiveness
because my mauled body pays
penance and I am my own
whipping boy who sees me as
a war zone of self-destruction
an addict to my own sickness
bat **** crazy
                         like those female poets
and their creative madness
                                                 Sexton, Plath, Bishop, Woolf
and Merini and Kane

and I prayed: Lord
forgive me for my sins
I would not recommend
Madness

© Sia Jane

He asked her if she hung the moon in the sky
If she used a ladder from the ground
Placing it on the dewy grass of September
Planting roses in the soil below to climb
Up each rung of the ladder
Putting thorns in the feet of those
Who dare enter.
She asked him if he painted one more star in the sky
If he launched a rocket catapulting his soul
So high he could float long enough
To use every colour on his palette
Dropping to earth so fast he caught
A shooting star which he stitched to his heart
As a gift just for her.
The universe asked them if they both wore masks
A mask to cover each & every fear they have
If reality scared them more than their nightmares
If the bright orange sun scared them more than the dark
They both whispered in unison
"How do you know, that we do not?"
The Universe smiled, winked with a laugh
Asking them to throw away their fears
& make love to their dreams.

© Sia Jane

This feels just like
Another cliché  because
You're the girl
I wanna sit under
The stars with
On a dark cold night
On the roof of my car
Cashmere blankets covering
Naked bodies
Wrapped inside one another
Conceiving constellations
Fingers pointing as
Patterns are shaped within
The sky above us

You're the girl I wanna hold
So tight that I'll always believe
I'll never lose you
That the vastness of your beauty
Of your warmth and persuasion
Never absconds
Leaving me searching through
Oceans and land
Just to taste the water of
Your love
The purity
How tranquil it leaves me
Like a baby lulled to sleep

I call you Mary Jane
You leave me high and I begin
To believe I am at one with
Those stars we are naming above
Because if I am a star above
And you are named as one too
We will never lose one another
That is why I want to sit
With you
On the roof top of my car
Out in the abyss of my surroundings
And stare above and sing a lullaby
Of my love
And count those stars until
Calmed and soothed we fall
Into the slumber of love
Only a cloud can carry
And awake anew to the rising
Of the sun
The intensity of the passion
Imploding within our bodies
A fiery sky of red and yellows
Until all that is visible is blue
Lighting a blank canvas of fields
Where we begin to sketch out
Our love
Yet again.

© Sia Jane
---

"I think that I could be fine
If I could be Mary Jane Holland tonight
I think we'd have a good time
If you'd meet me and Mary Jane in Holland tonight."

Lady Gaga

Tell me your secrets tell me a tale of centuries passed where you recall meeting at what we called the wrong time what if maybe years from now I lift my head tilted towards the sound of a barista clearing the table where you then sit where you are only focused on a poodle called Gaillard who is chocolate brown groomed to perfection with a winter coat matching the faux fur wrapped around your neck as winter has fallen no bleakness just crystal skies iced cobbled pavements too cold for the puppy with big brown eyes whimpering for a seat on a warm lap of an owner feeding treats comfort provided by the attentive barista returning from the inside of a busy café serving hot fresh expresso drifting smells across untouched air toward me who orders another chocolat chaud arriving with a macaroon an unmarked napkin to which I write "Tu me manque" standing I walk to her table Gaillard remembering my scent lifts himself to my chest as I lay the note down where the one who'd be gone so long whispered back sweeping her hair to the side, "Tu me manque plus"
simultaneously they say; "I knew I'd meet you again someday..." a smile from both, "in Paris," with a giggle a caress a simple holding of the hand.

© Sia Jane

You were restless
it’s the nights the world
made you nervous-
where stars have exploded
within you
but now fade out-
it’s these nights which
agitated you the most.

You start running circles
around the moon
chasing light years
trying to get to tomorrow
ahead of schedule
contained and prepared for
the unknown terrifying
you so much.

“Put fairy lights around
your neck, and lets go
outside," I declare,
"and pretend you’re a star
so I can chase you
around the garden,
until you fill yourself
with fearless light
reminding you
where one star burns out
another one shines.”

Your eyes shimmer
in the moonlight
they pay allegiance
to the night.

“See that there,” I point.

"A thousand stars..."

I smile; "A thousand stars...
It’s the promise you
made to the Universe,”

“To never burn out,” you say

I smile, “Yes! To never burn out.”                                

© Sia Jane

Gratitude
I searched the dictionary
I desperately wanted to find
a word, another string of letters
The List
I write, pages, flick, flick , flick
and the pencil, it scribbles,
"I should have known," she winks
"You're a writer."
My Gratitude
How it extends, to places, to people
to survival, and saving
to writing, to daring
to believing, to loving
to declaration
My Evolution
How you've watched me
grow
A mere amateur back in
June
A full year.
My first poem
"Where is my mind"
A recollection, as though
yesterday
the break, I snapped
I dared to enter the
unknown
The land known as Hello Poetry.

© Sia Jane

Muse hasn’t left my bedside for days:
         she races around
         the garden when I sleep:
                            it’s the only time she leaves,
                            she’s so loyal.
A few days ago, I heard Muse barking
         in the garden;
         I knew she’d seen the woodpecker again.
                       I’ve learnt the differences in her voice:
this is what comes of weeks bedbound.
But when the sedatives wear off
         I can do more than lie there:
                       I can feel the touch from my grandma,
                       I can smell last night’s family supper,
                                    I’m lucid.
Yesterday, the electroconvulsive therapy shocked my brain
                       today, my muscles feel as knotted
                                    as my oesophagus.
I’m on my back now; my only company
         is the ceiling; not even
                        the canopy of stars I once gazed at with joy.
                                      
© Sia Jane

"So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."

Shall I compare thee...

...to the Iguazú Falls River, where legend serves that a serpent; Boi, demanded a sacrifice each year of a young female, and the day two lovers; Tarobá and his beautiful maid Naipí, took to escape, and in revenge of such an act, Boi exuded such anger that he parted the river, thus forming the Iguazú Falls, splitting the river and condemning to two lovers to the falls.

or

...to Cristo Redentor; Christ the Redeemer, the Art Deco statue, protecting and looking over the city of Rio de Janeiro, to whom in all its glory cannot escape the force of nature, struck by lightning, causing damage irreplaceable.

or

…to The Hanging Gardens of Babylon, hundreds of metres into the sky, a place that to this day is unknown, myth being that King Nebuchadnezzar recreated the homeland of his precious wife Amyitis, who was deeply depressed and homesick, allowing her to find comfort and happiness.

or

…the Taj Mahal, of Pradesh, constructed using marble by the emperor Shah Jahan, in loving memory of his third wife; Mumtaz Mahal, the *jewel of Muslim art, a calligraphy written Great Gate reading; "O Soul, thou art at rest. Return to the Lord at peace with Him, and He at peace with you.

or

…the Temple of Artemis; Istambul, on sacred land in honour of the Greek goddess Artemis, the most apotheosized of Greek deities, the supposed daughter of Zeus and Leto, the temple also known as Diana, one of the goddesses who vouched never to marry; alongside Minerva and Vesta.

or

… the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus, of the Persian Empire, whereby Mausolus ornamented four sculptures created in relief for his wife (and also his sister); Artemisia II of Caria, generating an above ground tomb that would become to be listed as one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

But of all,
I compare thee to the Goddess of Love, Beauty and Sexuality; Aphrodite
arising from the sea, floating ashore on a shell;
Venus rising from the sea,
a lover of many,
later depicted as a painting of the Birth of Venus,
by the sufferer of unrequited love; Botticelli,
using his muse Simonetta Vespucci as a model.

© Sia Jane

My Traitor’s Heart

I cut your heart open with a knife,
And drink you up like the elixir of life.
My body would now be the perfect host
To house the remnants of your ghost
Forestalling your indignant daily riposte.

At the dining table, I compulsively realign
Silverware. I take a crystal glass, pour red wine,
Knowing I’ve committed a murderous sin
Goosebumps form on every inch of my skin
Dark memories resume within.

You spoke to me of girls undreamed-of
You taught me lessons of absent love
Such stories only fed my vengeance,
And now my body pays it's penance;
Flesh laid bare. A life sentence.

Tonight, I trace with fingers, tramlines of
Forgiveness; my Mourning Dove.
I am now so pure, and Satan
Cannot punish me with rattan
Palm. I was never part of his grand plan.

© Sia Jane

She caresses the gentle nature
that surrounds her
and her own quintessential
beauty.

As the incense lights her soft
hands slowly create
a gentle breeze around the
space.

The hollowed out tree has formed
a type of beating heart to protect
the soul she encloses within its
home.

Saying a prayer, gently closing her
hands, brown eyes out of sight
it is unbeknown as to what she
prays.

Her feet patter out of temple doors
as though she is making love to
her thoughts prayers wishes hopes
fears.

I smile in her direction, bowing my
head, with hands clapped together
the exchange occurs in peace.
"namasté."

© Sia Jane

Bated breath, waiting,
breathing slowed
subdued, held back
stuck in a moment
emotional turmoil

Let go, breathing
commences as normal
catch her breath
before she falls
out again,
                 again,
                            again


Twisted heart,
                                                bent out
                         of shape, to match her
recurrent yet inconsistent
breathing, thoughts
as easily fleeting

No one can do this, the
way that she can, nor
has any one before her
its an addicts run, and
adrenalin is like glue

Stuck on love, in love,
outta love, outta her mind
drunk on love, lust, the
power of persuasion absconds
leaving her prisoner

Love is the drug, no choice
no cure, rehab, pill or antidote
dizzy, crazy, wrapped under her
spell, soothe me to sleep, a
lovers lullaby.

© Sia Jane

You did not waste any time
     sweeping in, an eagle collecting prey
      yanking my tail just as
  I crawled in to the burrow of
unkept promises littered like
grains of sand infiltrating
the darkest corners of my mind
      your sharp talons, a beak now at
the base of my skull, but
     you don't **** me, you drag me
          through the air
shaking out your despair, soaring high
       with the hawks and falcons, rising above
             marking territory that is only yours
                 the others disperse, but
            you have me, you always
                                                      catch me.

© Sia Jane

Missing someone is this
indescribably tormenting
and endlessly projecting
loneliness

It doesn't even make any
logical or empirical sense
because is an immeasurable
force

She reaches her arms out
like a young child trying
to grasp parental or sibling
love

Such missing occupies every
single crevice of her brain and
this hopeless romantic can't
let go

But secretly she likes the
missing and its accompanying
emotions because it means she is
feeling

Maybe even someone is
going to miss her the way
she misses them, wishing she was
there

To miss, is to
notice the loss or absence of
another, someone, something,
her

To miss, is to
miss her.
miss her.
miss her.

© Sia Jane

Souls wandering, Midnight Mass
Rescued hearts, craving less distress
Willing participants, for Gods graces
Sinner or saint, all worth measured
Through the extent to which they
Carry this life
Dreamers & wishers, take a backseat
The strugglers making confessions
Their first feeble steps, starts at one
Plea forgiveness from those
They hurt or betrayed, when they took
This path, to not be with another
Or at one with the life around them
Never in life, will we know another
Truly know all of them, exposed
Even secrets kept safe, between lovers
Parted kisses & naked skin
Flesh on flesh keep them together
How could she know it would
Ever come to this
Walking out the door for his next score
He swore he was done
Baby tears crying into his mummies
Eyes, promises made, broken only
Hours later, leaving mother & child
Losing his family, she remained his last
Hope, those wandering souls
Lost in Midnight Mass
A fall from grace, cupids arrow
Wrapped with a bow
Then later the bundle from heaven
That kept daddy in those meetings
Counting the steps, bronze chip
Sobriety for a year, lost the day the
Door banged behind him
Denial his confidant, only friend
Left behind a mummy cried
Holding their only son
Crack *******, **** or smack
Choose your sin, lose a life
She knew
He knew
This baby was all that was left
With no sign
Or clue.

© Sia Jane

Maybe you will never understand why
when another insult leaves your lips
I wish I was there to kiss you and
halter any more words
you could speak,
which lost in translation have
the power to break the bones
across my heart, unhealed from
the last words I’d hoped
you’d refrain from saying.

So if I bleed, or if I cry,
or if I don’t even know how to smile,
know I’ll only kiss your lips because
I’d rather give the kiss of Judas
than hear another word.

© Sia Jane

Unbeknown to her, she was the other daughter.
The clairvoyant said she was born of water.

“Your beauty is your saving grace,
for so admired is your cherub-face.”

“My dear child, hold my hand close to you,
& see here, a young girl; veiled in black.
Worshipping the moon, beside a wolf pack.”

“For you, are celebrating a Lunar New Year,
requesting the spirits, my dear
beholding the Universe in the palm
of your hands. In the shadows, a silhouette
is walking towards you; a woman of a quintet.”

"You hear the piercing tone of a shawm,
a choir of voices & women barefooted
whose anklets ****** as a ritual dance
begins. But you stay. A statuette in stance."

© Sia Jane

Dearest Destined Jewel,
                                         Of longest heartfelt yearning, Bestow on thee, Hamlet awaits, Ophelia picking flowers, Magnolia branches speaking, Beautifications of Spring.

Supreme buds of new life,  Magnoliaceae of Queen bees, An enterprise of wonder, Symbolic child's enchanted play, Faeries in flight whisper attractions, Fondness, Les fleurs du mal.

Ample blossoms, Bosoms of delight, Devouring light, Little birds sing, Nestling, Chirping a languishing cacophony, Blissful unawareness, Nature nurture the soul.

A slip then fall, Nearby church bells distract, Into abyss fallen, Elevated body all at once, Floating amidst flora, Drowning, Petticoat woven dress, Resting on fresh valley water, Immersion, No contention, Hamlet awaits.

© Sia Jane

I watched you give her the kiss of life
I closed my eyes, a memory returned
of the day you gave me
the kiss of death. Then, I drowned in the waves of your deceit, & those
fraudulent lies flooded my lungs
like an overflowing well.

The day before it happened
a deep resounding stillness,
the calm before the storm, &
now I'm choking on toxic gas
the smoke of your words
leaving me breathless
needing the kiss of life.

© Sia Jane

I’m a graced angel in flight;
Strawberry blonde hair cascading down my back.
I’m being devoured by the Parisian night.

Racing past the library a thief in sight,
Henry à la Pensée envelope chemise, André Perugia shoes.
I’m a graced angel in flight.

My heart kidnapped, I’ve lost the fight.
Black streaks of mascara running down my cheek,
I’m being devoured by the Parisian night.

Happiness quashed, dreaming of the afterlife-
Now the games are about to begin!
I’m a graced angel in flight.

I’m looking up at the moon shining so bright,
Sedated by drink I’m waiting it out.
I’m being devoured by the Parisian night.

With dancing feet I’m kicking off the last shoe
And stumbling to the edge, I fall.
I’m a graced angel in flight.
I’m being devoured by the Parisian night.

© Sia Jane

She was always the other woman, flowers in her hair, cascading down her back
freckles covering, porcelain skin, cupids bow, painted dark red, hair strawberry blonde
vintage fashion of Henry a la Pensée, envelope chemise, peignoir, blue iris mink fur
shoulders forward, rain splintering, bare legs, André Perugia shoe, one lost amidst the cobbles
favourite novel in arm, to read, as she contemplates her choice, Gertrude Stein; Fernhurst
oh how can one author write ones heart so articulately she thought so pensively, the other women
spring blossom blown away as a puff of pink smoke, a thief in the night, racing past the library
the winding stair case, the oh so fabulous and opulent parties, laughter and cocktails
the tower in sight, a beating of an empty heart, lovers lost, a baby once nurtured
taken, those back street black market abortion clinics, she'd never recovered
she shivered, the time was now, black streaks of mascara, tragedy, loss, pain
the tower was in reach, she gazed upwards, it was near to midnight,
perfect, she thought, the exact time she lost her sister off this same tower,
both plunging to their deaths, love broken, hearts kidnapped nowhere in sight
the game was about to begin, her happiness quashed, every hour, the motions run
dreaming of the afterlife, sedated by drink, she waited it out, effortlessly thinking,
what now,
with a kick of the last shoe, a stumble to the edge, she fell, like a graced angel in flight
devoured by the night.

© Sia Jane
--

“I too am convinced that life is dark, and at the same time I love life.”
Simone de Beauvoir

What do you do
When all you can
Do is wait
For her voice
To sing the song
Of your open heart
Awaiting the calling
Of something unknown
Yet something you wish
Will love you for a thousand
Times, a thousand years
What do you do
When you are open to
Love, yet are endlessly lost
As to the reciprocal
Force of the lover you
So desperately seek
What do you do
When you have died
Everyday, waiting for her
Heart to beat back at
You, and your loving soul
More than just beauty
She captures you entirely
Wrapping her soul essence
Very being, around your
Awaiting heart mind soul
Your body craving only
Her.

© Sia Jane

Maybe I never knew...*

Maybe I always took
                                 this view,
Of a world, how
                         how would I know,
Cracks appear, others,
                                   my own, sewn,
Dominate, suffocate,
                                 love, leave
It's all the same, it's pain,
                                         no continuum, no extremes,
Balancing scales, frails,
                                      trails,
Gravel, grovel, sitting,
                                   I write
Type, my rope, squanders,
                                          wanders, images of
The same girl, oh,
                             she came undone,
A mere child of her time,
                                       now grown,
Yet still, she's sown,
                                she's allowed the stitches,
That choke, joked, laughed,
                                            misled, a dread,
On her knees, plead,
                                 taking her hand,
That promised land, trust, must,
                                                   trust,
Lust, lovers, dust,
                             kicked in her face,
And so they grabbed, pulled,
                                               lulled her to,
The very floor, of the gravel,
                                            you spat,
From engines & tires,
                                  you rushed from me,
Caged,
But this time baby, you did,
                                            you did hold the key,
I'm locked & chained,
                                  breathing in,
The last of air, until back,
                                        sacked,
Trapped within, not the,
                                      confines of mind,
Not that, you took that,
                                     from me,
You see, out of grasp,
                                   you sit, gloat,
Pray & float,
God bless you,
                                            who me?
**** thee.

© Sia Jane

The denouncement of
                                         human history
Men bartering dollar bills
                                                waging a money war.
How those business men flee
                                                     bank notes blown to smithereens
Battling dusts of torment
                                              acceptance of surrender.
Sparks burning a hollow nest
                              in the shadows a fallen angel
Cinders & ashes
                               a maleficent phoenix rises.
Diabolical legacies of past
                                                armoured; bow & arrow
Punctured wounded broken heart
                                                               wings disallow flight.
Stumbling a splintered hip
                                                  reborn a chance
Freedom, autonomy, independence
                                                                  of personal desires.
La Cuesta Encantada she
                                              falls at the gates
The Enchanted Hill
                                     San Simeon seeking redemption.
Death awaits her
                                Santa María Maggiore

Of Roman baroque temples
                                                   small cascading waterfalls
Her body released
                                  eternal rest.
She floats without dissension
                                                      The Neptune pool
She begins to sink
                                 in grace
                                                 in all her glory.


release release release


Hearst Castle entombing
                                               body, soul, memories
The peace which passeth understanding.


Absolution.

    
   © Sia Jane

War of the worlds,
                                men bartering money
Dollar bills left abandoned,
                                               blown to smithereens
Battling dusts of torment,
                                            acceptance of surrender
Waging a money war,
                                       business men flee
In the shadows rises,
                                   a fallen angel
Akin to a phoenix,
                                from the ashes
She symbolizes a renewal,
                                             dying in fires
Sparks burning a nest,
                                       immortality supplying coffins
Diabolical legacies of past,
                                             bow & arrow
Punctured wounding broken heart,
                                                          ­   wings disallow flight
Stumbling a splintered hip,
                                               reborn a chance
Of independent determined autonomy,
                                                       ­             la Cuesta Encantada
Fallen at the gates,
                                an enchanted hill
San Simeon seeking redemption,
                                                     ­   death awaits her
Carrying body & soul,
                                       Santa María Maggiore
Of Roman baroque temples,
                                                 small cascading pools
Death releases her body,
                                         the Neptune pool
She floats without dissension,
                                                   sinking in grace
In all her glory,
                           Hearst Castle will
Entomb body & soul,
                                      memories of her

release release release

Absolution.

© Sia Jane

not here, here, here

inside, outside, her head
bath tub, bubbles shaped
like balloons, rising
in the air,
cut open, she
precludes the secret nature
of her love,

he loved, her
every ballet she danced
pink fur, a butterfly moving,
on tips of toes,
tripping the light, en pointe
painted pale lips,
winged eyeliner, corset
silk, golden embellished,
Lacroix,
feathered tutu, romantic
Tchaikovsky's compositions,
faery tale ballets,
Swan Lake, Paris Opéra
Odette, a sorcerer's curse
falling to her fate, black
later, taxi rides home, kissing
moonlight, bedroom laughter,

KNOCK

not here, here, here

the bathroom door,
she kisses away,
her melancholy madness,
his voice; *Laurier...
her soul, punctured
by her lover...

not here, here, here

© Sia Jane

not here, here, here

-eyes closed-

a bath rub filled with bubbles
shaped like balloons rising in the air
her heart cut open, she can’t preclude
the secret nature of her love

and, he loved her, he loved her
he watched her every ballet she danced
a butterfly moving on tiptoes
tripping the light en pointe with
painted pale lips, winged eyeliner
silk Lacroix corset and feathered tutu

performing Swan Lake
at the Palais Garnier
the promised faery tale ballets
graceful movements to Tchaikovskys’s
compositions, telling the story of Odette
drowning in the lake falling to her fate

-KNOCK-

not here, here, here

-eyes open-

his voice; Laurier
her soul; punctured by her lover
a locked bathroom door
she kisses away her melancholy madness

not here, here, here*

© Sia Jane

Something always sends me back to that town.
I never know what I'm looking for
or why I always take the same road.

There's something in the journey
in seeing the same path ahead of me
only changing for the seasons
it's continuity, it's endurance,
it teaches me great strength.

She died in the fall. Now autumn leaves
cover the gravestone.
That October I planted seeds in the grass
surrounding you
pink peonies brought themselves to live life
two years later
it is as though they knew a grieving period
could only bring me acceptance.

I too, had to develop rooting in my new home
grow my own foliage, of sorts-
to find a way to protect me from the frost.

In those days of cold darkness, where my body
is frozen ice incapable of moving,
waiting to wake up, I would listen
to the last voicemail you left me.

You were by the sea on your morning run,
telling me again, as only you could,
how you loved the winter months closing in on us;
"There's a bright blue sky, the sun so low & hazy
the migrating swallows look like they're chasing its rays,"
you say.

It is those snap shots carrying me
through the days I'm victorious over,
which bring me into blossom.
I remember, nature trusts its processes.
It trusts the seasons bringing change.
It teaches me, again, great strength.

© Sia Jane #76
18/9/15