How might a love
once wholesome and pristine
wax nostalgic intercourse?
The green-eyed seductress
entangled weeds of envy
octopus arms, inked
through the lattice of my heart
a machete splicing trust
fields of future growth
overtaken by dead grass
I sit beneath the willow tree and weep.
Linked to: dVerse Poets
So sad, when trust is gone.
How could love so pure turn sour. An old-age question difficult to comprehend but continued to happen. The answer probably lies in human emotions so complex and easily provoked. You have showed one here so well!
correction...' an age-old question'..it should be.
Thanks, Eva and kaykuala... I read it age-old anyway.
I love your use of unusual metaphors in this poem, the entangled weeds and octopus arms.
Thank you for linking your work to the Real Toads site.
I REALLY like the title. It fits the message of the poem so well. So sad that many times love does NOT last.
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