and choked on bones of jellyfish
to walk with Lover hand-in-hand
on white shores made of dried stardust.
I have sung a song of love
in coral woodlands, vast and deep
"Come back to me," my mother cries.
I hear her voice yet in my sleep.
I have sailed a silver ballroom
in a green dress soft as moss
to witness Lover pluck a kiss
from a strange maid's lips of rose.
I have sung a song of love
in lonely dungeons, dark and deep.
"Come back to me," my lover cries.
I hear his voice yet in my sleep.
I have combed the salty dewdrops,
scarlet blood, from out my hair,
just to keep in Lover's chest
the knife carved of my mother's pearl.
--April 2, 2013
Prompt: A poem that tells a lie
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