Burgundy Taffeta
As death embraced my whole being
Shrouded in burgundy taffeta
Her arms forceful
Embraced me
So as we spooned
I could not turn to see her lace shrouded
Face
She whispered
In Victorian tongue
Just loud enough to menace
Yet no matter how intensely I listened
Not one word
Made
Sense
I tried to respond
Or scream
Or raise
But my living soul stood still and silent
We swooned
Noir skies
Still
Laid out
And wrestled silent screams
And finally she softened her hold
And allowed me to leave
Our dream.......
poem by Karen Sinclair
Added by Poetry Lover
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