Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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An overthinking heart

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The mind overthinks
and the heart stutters
in that moment
between pause and panic.
How we yearn
and bargain
for distant dreams …


Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday

Find the complete version here.

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©Christine Kelly 2019

Photo by Daniel Monteiro on Unsplash


7 Comments

Dressed in violet

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Once again I find you,
betwixt thoughts
and between breaths. A pull
as inexplicable as the way sunlight
shimmers upon Midwestern wheat,
this Autumn day. With memory
more than ephemeral …

 


Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday

Find the complete version here.

:

©Christine Kelly 2019

Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters on Unsplash


5 Comments

Inscrutable

Have you ever lost yourself in velvet dreams?

Those that blanket the small
hours of the night, cocooned
in everything the mind shutters
while awake.
Dreams
inscrutable in the light of day,
message unread,
a fragment of memory
we ache
to retain.


Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday

Find the complete version here.

:

©Christine Kelly 2019

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash


8 Comments

Leaves for the leaving

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A sweet October wind touches me

as sunlight trails a lovers

kiss across my skin;

the trees dance their last dance

before winter.

Leaves for the leaving.

A bittersweet farewell in umber,

the fall of red and gold

imbued with the longing

of a parting kiss.

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Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from White Noten

 

 


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Firestorm

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My pulse races and stutters,

a staccato sound of gunfire,

as you draw near.

Senses enlivened by proximity,

electricity crackling,

the air

ripe

with danger

and desire

as you take what you need,

relentlessly. My defenses plundered

with the skill of a tactician.

This want

you’ve created,

 a violent firestorm

that burns it all down.

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Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Tumblr, unsourced.


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Awakening

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I cannot cage these thoughts

nor douse these desires.

Every encounter pushes me further over the edge:

to fall

to fly

into this fire

with you.

Cool sheets and exhausted sleep

coalesce into an awakening;

flames licking every inch of my bare frame,

sheets tangled around curves,

as my hands smooth over warm skin

and my fingers find every ache

with your name.

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Copyright ©SirenSong1208

All rights reserved.

Photograph taken from Pinterest, unsourced.


8 Comments

Saturday storms

It’s raining, a drink of water after parched days. The ground was littered with odd drops,  scattered randomly, before the thunder came and the heavens opened.

The rain always stops me in my tracks. I wait. I watch. I wonder. And my heart aches with some unfathomable feeling that soaks me to my core with a haunting want.

He is the one I think of when the rain falls, shattering itself upon the pavement. A Saturday morning with nothing but the sound of rain, and thunder in the distance. It’s always him I think of  — sitting end to end on a couch, reading. Or, notebooks open upon laps, jotting down something that comes to us, dialogue or a poem. I think of laying in his arms, just listening to the rain, not saying a word. I think of the intimacy of the moment and how completely I want that. I think of how this will never come to pass.

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from Pinterest, original source unknown.