The edges of the paper
burn
loosely twisted cord
smouldering in the dark
melted tallow
and vanilla plum
the heat overcomes
the smoked-filled room
washes down her throat
shadowing windpipes
suffocating her lungs
sickly-sweet intoxication
the script melts
ink and promises
dissolve into night
black smoke left hovering
entwined
the words of her lover
lost
the oil lamp burns on.
J.CALVERT 2016
Interesting. This light from the candle the “tallow’ , it’s suffocating, the words of her lover obviously callous or fake — or at least lost to her even though the oil lamp burns on. Great writing Jenn 🙂
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Thank you Mandi. Your comments are always extra special and thoughtful. Yes the room, the tallow, the flame, the smoke all gripping, intense. His love/lust lost to her. Was it ever there?
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Phenomenal
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😍 thank you!!
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My pleasure 😘🌹😚❤
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Wonderful!
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Thanks honey! 💗
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Splendid word artistry Jenn! ❤️
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Thanks so much MW! XXX
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xo
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Reblogged this on firefly465.
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Thank you for the reblog!
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Very indepth writing…awesome
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Thanks so much! Glad you liked it.
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