Contributor Series 7: The Confessional Diary of Bone
Just Like Two Balloons
By Lisa Marie Basile
Oh heaven, I am extremely vulnerable when
listening to that song. It sounds of black color,
all the things that once were upon the mantle.
Winter has come in, settled down and the
house is now a cold, white bone.
My face cries, the whole thing, even
my cheeks. Sometimes, without knowing it, I catch myself,
filled with black sparrows
circling my heavy head. You know even I cannot
run from
all the ghosts perched inside that song. All the
mon dieus of our childhoods and the adieus
of our hearts rattle between the sounds.
Our weeping bursts the ceilings, with
an attic full of photos falling on our heads.
Lisa Marie's poem Anemones, appeared at vox poetica in February as part of Contributor Series 4: Aspects of the Elephant.
I am well acquainted with these black sparrows you speak of. A perfect image. Thank you, Lisa Marie.
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"My face cries, the whole thing,"
I love that image. Real heartbreak isn't pretty to watch like hollywood would have us believe.
Thank you for sharing.
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Very visual. I love the last two lines.
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love this piece with its fitted images and all the mournful sounds you conjure with them. beautiful.
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