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February 14, 2005
Virginia
Virginia
Stepped in the water,
like stepping into the Ball,
All dresseup, all aprehension,
She will soon hear the music
And her dance card will be filled
By young gents wanting to know of
the delicacy of her condition, as they
twirl and turn, makin impressions,
Their hair sleeked back, their moustashes
Oiled, anxiously tormented by her presence,
Her cold Blue eyes, and the silence she wore
Like beads around her neck, her hands
Oh Virginia
Your ghosts are still here
Walking the hallways, their voices
like nails against the window glasses
shatter the proper sensibilities of living
The constant yearning that enveloped your days,
The anticipation of a reality deformed, debased
And tilted, in all hours of waking, this severe
Sense of belonging to everything that's not here,
every thing that prances on fringes of maddness,
Your disshelfed brohaha, your silence
And the answer, deep within the cold surrender
Of the lake, as the water reached up, accepting
You, like a lulaby, promise of a sleep, now reachable
At hand, another step, as your feet left the earthly
Bottom, the plunge, the release, filling you fluid and calm,
The helpless happiness that drowned you, as fears left, voices
The angst of blending and the mediocraty of living, then came
The peace, the quiet deliverence, floating weightless
Posted by Idinraha at February 14, 2005 11:41 AM