Belong #DVersePoets #Quadrille

When it was good

he could trace his name

through freckles on her back.

Could see all the ways he belonged

in that bed,

with her,

in that house.

Until belong became belong to,

possession possessed

in that bed, in that house

by her.

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A Life Like Helios #DVersePoets #Quadrille

I followed your path,

at a distance.

You like the sun,

or any volatile star

burning a streak

towards the horizon.

A scorching vision

to those of us

watching, waiting.

Aware

that you would set

before us.

Terrified of dusk.

Sensing its arrival

anyway.

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Language Past – #DVersePoet #Quadrille

She was legs, hips, breasts, and bone.

Same as a cow,

worth less perhaps.

 

Dredged up words

from the dark well of your mouth,

not ancient, just old.

 

“Ace”

a hiss,

curled around the syllable.

 

Careful,

you are wearing history

with no place here.

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Tonight’s Quadrille prompt from the bar is the word ‘Ace’. I did a bit of a google search and discovered that in the middle ages, the word ‘ace’ could be used to be ‘of no worth’ or ‘bad luck’.

In Other Words #DVersepoets #Quadrille

Someone says panic attack, adrenaline spike,

low, calm, and confident,

laying a diagnosis out like a challenge,

while I sit here,

stumped, all root and no branch

to climb up,

to escape by,

not a spike but a stake

pinning me in this place.

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