Black Lilies
Flensing words, slicing deeper: all, nothing,
red to redder. Their skin, paling to nothing.
I speak today but you hear yesterday.
Black lilies in the chill of nothing.
Drifted apart, the two halves reconcile.
Yellowed, whitened. Older. Both stitched in nothing.
How many words have we lost to morning? Shredded
syllables sparring for sound. The nothing of nothing.
A coated voice, turquoise and calm, spreading across the room.
Buttered light. Pleasantries, unfolding. You, being nothing.
The language of night sleeps unformed in my bed.
I remember your hand on my cheek; flesh forgets nothing.
* * *
A near-ghazal, “Black Lilies” first appeared in ISACOUSTIC* in January 2018.
O at the Edges 
Beautiful words and brings out such pure emotion
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Thank you!
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One of the best, glorious!
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Thank you, Jim. High praise!
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Why do we reconcile to absence, settle into nothing (which we know is nothing, because we recognize it for the lack that it is!)? By the way, you never lack for achingly haunting, excruciating, gorgeous words!
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Thank you, Miss H. It seems all too common, but I vow to NOT settle into nothing in the future!
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Don’t you dare!
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Wouldn’t dream of it. 🙂
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A coated turquoise voice that keeps calm….. Lovely!
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I’m not certain what color my voice would assume.
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That sounds vague…. You know…. Nice poem you got there!
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I am replete with vagueness!
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Oh really!!! 😉
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Ha!
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👍✔️
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Thank you for teaching me two new words this morning, flensing an ghazal. Poets hold the best words in their hands and play them like cards, slipping a trump in, when needed, to take the trick.
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Glad to be of service, Jilanne! I don’t believe that I’d ever used flensing before. It’s a wonderful word!
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