Creatrixsblood's Weblog


Uncertainty
August 5, 2016, 5:22 pm
Filed under: doubt, emotions, Gardening, love, poetry, Uncategorized, writing

A sestina, written early in the relationship with the king of vacillant winds and discarded dreams.

It was my birthday when we met,

and I was first enveloped in your smoke.

We wandered, my skin burning, in the garden.

your friend trailed behind, embodying my doubts.

Compared to the maelstrom of my thoughts,

I barely said a word.

 

Perhaps I have way with words,

but only in subversive meetings

with myself where my thoughts

are suffocated in smoke

and doubt…

What do you care to grow in your garden?

 

Are you even a proper gardener?

Carefully choose your words

and silences. My doubts

are hungry and eager to meet

the man behind the smoke

usurping my productive thoughts.

 

Should I share the thoughts

I’ve etched into my garden

sand? Will they dissipate like the smoke

from your cigarettes and the words

from your mouth when our lips meet?

Can you cripple my doubt

 

or am I right in doubting

your capacity to calm my thoughts?

When you and my id have finally met,

will you still want our infested garden?

Will you cull it with your words

or gas it in a pesticide smoke?

 

I can tolerate the smoke.

I can breath in poisons and exhale the doubts

and come up with clever wording

for my thoughts,

but I let noxious weeds flourish in the garden.

They grow so tall our eyes cannot meet.

 

Words unspoken each meeting

planted this doubt in the garden…

and  smoke does not slow the infestation of thoughts.

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