#verse-a-tile

And thank you again to everyone who participated! (We sent out thank you messages to everyone individually, unless you have “ask” disabled. Hope they were all received.)

Your passion grows From the rotted corpses Of slaughtered relations, Departed partnerships, And pocked hearts, That bloom deep under Oceans of tears In cornucopias of pinks, Acacias, lilacs - -   Your passion spreads In reaching reefs That hide between stormy Skies and seas seeking To wreck and wrack                     Their                                Love’s                                            Vessels Upon the sharpness Of your desires that Will puncture their Tough hulls, or pretty Scales, pin them to   Drown upon you In last breath throes And twitches   Or flee, coral Gashed and now coral cut,   Am I forever infected                      Or   Or      Do I   I mistake my reflection From in the dark Below the surface.

Did he give assent, That father there – The one standing By the swings, Not as fair as he once was, Pushing his boy Towards his youth’s apogee,                    As they both smile,                    As they both love,                    As they both giggle;   That day then, When he sees Her beautiful happy face Drawn, broken with tears From struggle, From absent                      consent,                    As she does cry,                    As she cannot love,                    As she does fear;   When that father sees her, With her new dead China doll stare, Will he question if his Was the permission slip                  Slipped to his boy                  By never teaching                  The meaning of ‘No’?