Alexithymia

Now an actual Poem:

Alexithymia

She never thought to be alone.
He lay there, tracing the stars on her lips,
The silent apricity of each hardened fingertip across
The sloping flat of her collar-line
Foreshadowed the lie of gentility

For he was never whole.
Like the whisper and crackle of a fire pit
On a shooting-star summer
He’d shine one ephemeral flash
Only to fade to transparency.

Yet, even cloaked by midnight,
She found the bronze eyed rider
Beckon a welcome just inside the unlone hour
Where they’d curl up by an auroral smolder,
Unwittingly humming their cortege with chthonic desire.

His eyes were all she could see in penumbra,
But she could feel every curve,
Every calm zephyr caress her naked skin
As his voice beckoned her further into
a liminal nowhere.

Betwixt and between, lost in the embrace of a specter,
She couldn’t tell if her face dripped
With sweat, tears or rain.
Her only truth that he must raze her passions;
She had not the strength to do it herself.

She never knew she was alone.
Her demon, maybe angel, and just perhaps human
Gave no indication; only acquiescence.
Unintentional sighs stabbed with a blunt sword into
Each cicatrix outline of her heart.

Teetering on the cusp of dusk and dawn,
She had fallen in love with a shadow.

 ©2012 Lex Vex