Kenneth, loves satire and writings to spotlight others, but he also has an "addiction" so to speak, to dramatic and abstract/prose poetry.
We ride our silence with sweaty brows hide,
Desires die easy, and star-lit dancing leaves.
She's slowly, gracefully, walking toward us,
Smiling safely, carefully, seeing what she believes.
Clocks run slow and time grinds, and grinds,
She's a pristine nun, a sunbeam born new.
Telling her maidens of "our" midnight blinds.
Holding her at glance, love light true.
Cradling her face in my filthy hands,
She sighs a soft sigh and closes her weeping eyes.
She whispers of home, but lives in her land,
I listen to her promises, tears, and heart beat lies.
Ahhh, the time surrenders to her, stark and tall,
She defiantly curses a coarse word in passion.
Snapping her fingers an ember burns her fall.
I hold her tightly, to quieten her confusion.
© 2020 Kenneth Avery