A love letter lay
on a dusty window sill
half torn and crumpled
its aged and fraying edges
crusting like a tinny bell
resounding in the still air
trapped in dark, oaken walls.
The moth loved and mildewed
tapestry of a down stuffed comforter
holds the last impression
of a twenty four summer sweetheart
in the moment she read before the fall.
Rivulets, spatter, and flecks
of russet autumn sky stain
the blanket, filtered through
age, disuse and dust,
where some six hours
Euphoric and broken she lay.
A mist of sun
Garish and brassy pauses
on the swath of contorted sheets
and for a
moment
only a moment
A silhouette's shadow waits
toes curled under her crouched form.
Her hair, body and soul
replay in black and white
as she waits in shattered chains
for his return
The color from the sun cannot
turn her cheek from grey.
Hidden, forgotten by all but one unremembered,
an official, type checked black and white letter
creeps, a weed from gravel,
between two whethered boards of greying pine.
When the wood dries more,
when the spring rains stop,
it will be vacuumed
into the abyss between the top and
the bottom
Where all souls devide
and only the folded tricorner
flag, stuffed between the mattress and
its frame will possess the answer
WHY?
© 2014 Lex Vex
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