Fragility

She withered, 

A paled Botticelli demure

Her mind eggshell thin and

 littered

With pieces of you

Haunted by halos 

Cluttered in yesterday's honey gaze

Still Blinder than hell

Cursing her love as a prison cell

She eclipsed, 

lightning crash, waking stars

As willows shiver, winter sighs 

This moon kissed momentary escape 

Calls bullshit to zen

In great billowing clouds of pewter

The past is circulating

We two are Oklahoma bold

Sweltering lovely, while you boast the cold

Like Shakespearian tragedies,

Her pages are growing old.

To crackle and cry like dead leaves

On the eve of nostalgia,

Time is dripping mad cursive,

And age never lies

It wanes, eventually dies...

Pooled in midnight mellow

She's weathering the range,

Of your lightning bolt gazes

Temporal passion phases.

Crawling in shotgun shells,

Each casing a promise

Your words are ember stings

I can't grasp what hope means

When hope unravels 

And nothing is as it seems.

Chased by the echoes of waking dream

Her life fragile as the curve

Of a butterfly's wing. 

What does it all mean?

Reviews

[.]

~~ painful experiences expressed in beautiful poetry... ~~ for me... this is about a tormented mind delving into the depths of another tormented mind... desperately trying to ascertain... somehow... if... the existential aspirations of two human beings collide or blend... ~~ and... the intensity of vulnerability expressed in this piece is overwhelming... ~~ it's hard to write about something as fragile as fragility... but you excel in expressing yourself... ~~ excellent work...

[Perdition]

"Ghost's crowd the young child's fragile eggshell mind"…Jim.
Once you hit "We two are Oklahoma bold" this poem really takes its stride like a galloping thunderous stampede and never relinquishes the point of fragility.
There is a serious unraveling beyond hope in this with such intense lines and with your use of rhyming that pushes the hooves of awkward understanding onward like a gathering storm. You get angry and then you turn, first to sadness and then to introspective reflection of the attack followed by a change in tense. +The shotgun shell cases becoming promises.

I think a point worth making here is your change in personal tense from the start to finish. You begin in passive voice "She withered" and then you switch to an active aggressive "It wanes , eventually dies…." Not quite sure why you change but you add more mystery to the piece by doing so.
Where the past was an issue at the beginning it eventually is abandoned and brings the reader to the collapse of not only her fragility but his as well. Not at all that easy and very well executed.
I kept coming here and seeing that same poetry. I am completely heart filled alone to find you back but to see you reaching to walk on water as well..Wonderful C.