Beneath – Page 50 – Iron Haiku

it’s not who I am
this someone in the mirror
but who I became
–
a placid lake-
the moon’s watery
countenance

in the aftermath-
flowers left by the roadside
fading in the sun
–
stippled sunlight-
mushrooms growing
on fallen trees

a blanket of clouds
pulled up tight over my head
shutting out the day
–
morning song-
the reluctance
of wakefulness

roadmaps of black veins
crawl across her damaged arms
recording the hits
–
sheer bliss-
a wasp amid
the rose stems

ribbons of sea foam
settling across wet sands
as the tide comes in
–
light from the transom-
smoothing wrinkles
from her bedsheets

seeking atonement-
clad in fresh linens, walking
down to the water
–
dusty winds-
a lake of bricks
cracking in the sun

shards of old grudges-
determined to stay angry
poisoning myself
–
dusty trainers-
running from the sound
of broken glass

weary of this need
yearning to see the sun but
your throat, so tempting
–
orion’s belt-
clouds of bats
obscure the moon

holding you tightly
wondering just where you go
when the darkness comes
–
stifling heat-
electric blue veins
dance across the storm

the girl of my dreams
or maybe just one of my
hallucinations
–
freshly cut grass-
watching the clouds
transform