Your play or mine?

An image of Cecilia Edefalk’s SELF-PORTRAIT

It was the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Once desire seeps through the skin
to stain the sinewy stage within
I couldn’t walk away with only a hint.

I kept coming back to that wretched scene
feeling compelled to play out my dream
as real as poisoned apples and magic beans.

How long did it take for me to realize
your quiet eye was taking aim at the skies?
My heart was never your prize.

The cost of embracing fire isn’t being burned
– cold ash sleeping dreamlessly in your gilded urn –
but the haunting persuasion that yearns.



 Yes, it was the first time, but we both knew it wouldn’t be the last.

©Lipstickandmiracles 2016

In response to the Opening Line Discover Challenge



Author: lipstick&miracles

A poet-writer-dreamer who wants to share her collection of bright and quiet miracles strung together through travel, reading, writing, doodling and the rest of it. Shapes and words that make her heart skip a beat... and maybe yours too?

2 thoughts on “Your play or mine?”

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