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Iskra Dec 2019
On the longest, darkest night,
To pass the aching countdown until dawn,
We lit a candle to give us light,
A gentle flame to burn until our agonies were gone.

With wordless prayer upon my lips,
Of moonlight skin on flowing sheets,
In all the life that it has given,
Never did scarlet taste so sweet.

A path of blossoms in the dark,
Bloomed from worship of mouth on skin,
To beckon Death with gentle fingers,
Tell me, how could this be sin?

Let me soak up your burning blush against my skin as you lie with me,
Let me tell you
It is with you, my love, that I am clean;
It is like this when we are free.
To my lover
Iskra Oct 2019
He told me all the wonders of the world,
All the smoke-filled ponderings and philosophies,
Yet he himself was but a wretched worm.

Young but wary,
I’d walk past the mushroom without a bite,
And walk into the flower garden level headed.
Drawn as I was to the roses,
Lovely hues,
Too classic for so whimsical a place.

But oh what a pleasant surprise to be serenaded by a pretty stargazer.
Who trilled in lilting soprano,
Blossoms rounded in the curve of treble clef,
Shrill and wonderful
Such that even my skin listened

And what would I give to linger in the garden,
But the journey and path continue on.
After all, the smirking cat said nothing about staying,
Perhaps the smile will carry on.
Iskra Aug 2019
A click of a lock at curfew cut off the chaos of the day,
The last pulse in the longest piece we’d had to play,
Stillness and silence until tomorrow’s dawn.

Until a string broke in the room,
A final sigh before the creak of drying wood,
The trio rocked and murmured ‘til my tears subsided.

The Sultan would spare the enchantress,
But I still wept, because I knew
That ten doors down, in her own prison,
Scheherazade was weeping too.
Iskra Jul 2019
Face will glisten and fingers bleed,
For this love too out of reach

Notes pour off the page too quick,
Wrist trembles,
Shoulders click

Crystal tears dull thoughts of blood,
It’s a passion, hurts too much
Iskra May 2019
We’ll sneak onto the railroad tracks,
Or break into the local pool,
Any moment, any adventure,
All a bliss for me and you.

Take my picture,
Capture time,
Stall before this whirlwind tears us up.
You loved both, you loved two,
One came first, will you stay true?

Or will you spend the day with me,
Stay late enough to spend the night,
My muse, that’s just how these things go,
I know you didn’t dress warm enough, just so I could see you wear my clothes.
Inspired by Life is Strange
Iskra Apr 2019
I may never know
What lies behind the veil each night.
I may never know
If pain or paradise await my mind,
If I will dream of milk and honey
Or run from hellhounds endlessly.
I may never know
What lies in store for me each night,
So I can toss and turn
As every day grows long and bleak,
But I can’t stay awake forever
For everyone must sleep.
Iskra Mar 2019
I lay on my back,
Crystal water
Washing around me
Ringing in clarity.

Waving gold forests
Caress my fingertips.
Their shimmering spots of sun
Soothing to me.

Clouds, cotton candy at first,
Fill space and time
With sureness and sense
With fragile glass eyes
I watch them go by.

They float farther and farther
Sun brighter and brighter.
I’m still,
Brittle,
Clear water washing over me,
As I drown in the vast, empty sky.

Swirling silt rises as the my thoughts pollute the water,
Blackened, poisoned by my mind.

I lay in darkness, frozen in murky-still slush.
A thickening swamp to rot in,
What does it take to stop clinging to the bottom and rise,
Rise above the murk to clarity,
Away from the sediment,
Up towards serenity?

A last strand of sunlight reaches down,
I shut it out,
Searching for a light within
Searching for something to brighten my own darkness after the sun will set

One ray.
One sliver of clarity will be enough.
When will it come?
How was my world so light before, so clear?
Waves lap over my face, over my head, over my chest,
Revealing a faint glow.
A new angle, new feeling, for once a breath of air.

Just enough.
Enough to part the swirling silt,
To catch a glimpse of an inky sky.

Though it may have seemed otherwise before,
She is not empty,
But filled with stars.
Small, far away,
But breathing light,
Glowing and just bright enough to soften the vast emptiness before me.

All with their own lives,
clear streams or silty quagmires,
All so far and alone but still shining, beaming with hope.

Just enough
Just enough to relight a spark, to bring a silvery luminescence to the waving, silent forest.
Still swirling with silt, but growing clearer each day.

Enough to see the thick, rich clouds,
Collage on canvas,
Layers stripped away to reveal
Stern colors beneath.

The clouds changed,
No longer fillers and pillows,
Now new and untamed.
A complement to the sky, not her replacement.

And in my corner of this sky,
I learned I was the moon.
Though I would darken,
Draped by shadow,
I would always find a spark to light my own way in the vast emptiness of a tortured mind.
And perhaps even enough for a lost star to claim its light.
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