© 2010 RC deWinter ~ All Rights Reserved
The ghosts were walking last night
– right here –
their suffocating caul enveloping nocturnal peace.
I felt each and every one of you, old lovers.
One by one you came and lay
wrapping spectral arms around my heart,
squeezing the breath from my body
as you breathed your false and lying words of love
into my soul.
My bed was crowded with memories,
with the unseen but remembered essence
of what each of you gave,
then took away.
I saw you, cowboy –
you were laughing as you let me go
and faded back into your shell of selfishness.
And you, my man in black,
were so close that I could feel your warm breath
on my neck;
you sobbed crocodile tears of sorrow
even as you even as you wrapped yourself in the flag
and wreathed yourself
in the impenetrable bandages of the hero.
The clown, opening his mouth
as if to kiss me lingeringly
exposing the black void within his soul;
the batterer wielding his guitar,
an axe indeed,
blueblack flowers blooming
each well-aimed swing,
each hateful percussive jolt of fist on flesh;
the artist, poisoned brushtips quivering,
caressing, painting invisible, indelible scars;
the saint, tarnished halo glowing,
reading off the register of my transgressions;
you all were here.
Every one of you took his ghostly turn with me
throughout the interminable hours of alone.
I do not remember sleeping,
only lying there,
helpless in the vortex of the shadowland
as you revisited
to print me with your pain.
© 2010 Regina Coeli deWinter
Digital oil painting.