Greta: Poetry


He played for her,
Breathed fire into the 
Abyss of words 
that she'd never heard
~
He loved her,
In ways she did 
not fathom
~
Like a painter,
With careless strokes,
He dared her to breathe
Through the colors of his
Existence
~
She did so
Because she loved him 
in return
~
There was the jingle,
Jangle of sentiment 
Careless entangled in 
Left over rampages 
Brought on by the 
Devastation of his kiss
~
Oh, if he could only 
See that she knew him 
inside
Beyond the core of words
And bullshit,
Past the remnants of 
A tongue he claimed 
didn’t speak for his soul
~
His heart sang to her
With the utterance
That he alone was the one
she could not live without
~
But Greta closed the door 
on that life long ago;
It was gone as surely as the 
wind was dying down outside
~
But the letter in her hands,
The one with his eloquent 
Handwriting, 
Told her without speaking
That she’d been quite wrong,
because her heart still
twisted in her chest seeing it.

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