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Monday, 5 November 2012

Echo and Narcissus

The mirror cracks and splits your grin in two,
My lip’s still bleeding from the kiss you gave,
A silver curtain’s draped around the top,
The webs are thick with dust and fossils of
Like Dorian’s portrait maggots could breed
In your eyes.

I tear your face off the wall.
It shatters, clatters like the din of war,
Your face swims on the floor,
A sea of silver; memories are splinters.
Surrounded by your face so proud but grim,
Your lips are bluer than the grave is cold,
And mine are stapled, I speak with my eyes.

The tears are scraping, scratching in my throat,
That hurts with over-straining,
My mouth forms an ‘O’
A broken sound escapes, neither voiced nor silent,
A solemn song like a swan composing its own eulogy,
All words are obsolete now,
I closed your eyes before they lowered you.

I pause by your headstone.
It’s marble, beautiful,
Would win your approval.
The flesh may die but I still breathe the sweet
Scent of your soul.
You push your head up where the bones decayed,
Your eyes are sore and dazzled by the sun.


  1. This article is very helpful! I never rinse my floors after washing them. Now I now that I really should be! I'l get to mopping lickety split:)
    Split face Tile

  2. Only just discovered your blog. Glad I did. This is really dark and macabre and I like the references to literature. Fantastic writing.