Accented in Ordinary

I flow in platinum highways
along the low of your back
in water so dense my body

ends.

We are shadows,
I correlate.

Show me shallow,
I can’t associate.

I’m always a placeholder.
Every bachelor reaches
for something older.

What happens when none see me as newer?

Antiquated: she’s familiar.

You once preached me exotic
with day dreams extending
up to your knees.

But ships hold
tighter in transit
over “true loves” deep…

Then stay dry, love.

Your indecision
bores me.

Go

back to her.
I’ll last

unattached–

sailing under this flood.

Don’t forget to pace
between her freckles
and build her a mansion
of twigs, with a roof
of leaves, and a fence
ridged in rocks
once you’ve reached.

I’ll watch it overflow
from the center of the sun.
The tide pushed you to dive–

jump down the basement of your mind,
held by dusty photo albums
(you long to rust).

Then be that phantom.
Hide under a lid of mahogany,
recycled floor boards from your youth;
the voyage you made
with your “true love”
now hammered by planks.

Your past flashes, withered,
all accented in ordinary.

I won’t accept
your regrets to have stayed.
Lonesome, yes,
but never trapped
within glossed frames;

family portraits
encompassed
in your name.

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About Robyn

"If you haven't known insanity, you haven't lived."
This entry was posted in Other Trivial Pursuits, Recovery (USA) and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Accented in Ordinary

  1. Love that ‘pace between her freckles’ line :)

    Liked by 1 person

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