dream girl

From Mythica to Ithaca and all points in between,
they told their tales about her,
as if she were a dream,
as if she had no feelings,
as if she had no heart,
they told their tales about her,
this Lady Scarlet.

He is Midnight
His sword is Moonlight,
his breath a cold air,
his eyes a black stare,
his footsteps falling,
his memory calling,
his heartbeat hollow,
only an echo,
of the one he means to take,
before she is awake.

You are salvation,
waiting only to be claimed,
by the shamed, gamed, framed,
you are true love lasting,
everything right,
first sight,
shining bright.

 

 

From “Gold Mine”

 

In the midst of writing the new novel and working on a collection of poems from the last few years, I started editing and rewriting a third book, a collection of poetry, prose, and flash fiction, GOLD MINE, that I hope to have available by the end of this year. Work on the new novel is still going well. It might seem a strange thing to some to be working on three books at once, I’m really enjoying working this way, I don’t know that I would always want to be working on three books at the same time, but for right now, it is working for me.

TS



Categories: All The Bright Young Things At The Last Picture Show, Gold Mine, Novel, poem, Poetry, Posted by Teri Skultety

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