Moon empties her woodsmoke arms
like blood fingers from a pale mist
I smudge air over the old drawer
drugged by grief like Mary Shelley
…but you had mine;
it’s a schizo wind now
caviling my girl; my own madness
lies ill, she murmurs.
© 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Revised 6/15/2021
Moon empties her woodsmoke arms
like blood fingers from a pale mist
I smudge air over the old drawer
drugged grief, like Mary Shelley
…but you had mine
deadlocked to fringes of my thumb
caviling my girl; my own madness
lies ill, she murmurs.
© 2021 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.
Written for the 6/14/2021 dVerse quadrille prompt.
I wanted to write about an unrequited infatuation or love once I remembered that Mary Shelley supposedly kept her dead husband’s heart in her drawer.
Romantic.
I think this will be a draft I’ll work on again. Maybe today or another time. I don’t know.
53 responses to “A heart.”
Oh, I love the darkness in this.. how can love be more unrequited than if you have your lover’s heart in a drawer?
Or maybe it’s the perfect love, he can never leave.
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True, true.
Thank you for the feedback. 🙂
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Exceptional piece, Lucy.
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Thank you, G!
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My pleasure ❤️
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❤ ❤
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Beautifully dark. I like the way the first stanza moves from the imagery of the moon to the drawer…..
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Thank you so much. ❤
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Haunting and deliciously dark. Good writing!
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Thank you!
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Mistress Poe, with the drippings of Frankenstein, whereby love turns cold and black as dead flesh, as a captive heart
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Ah, Glenn! I do not know what to say. I love that name though–Mistress Poe, but I’m far from it. Thank you, though, for the compliments and feedback.
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wow love the luse darkness in this. here have my heart to add to your collectio in that draw ms Lucy Shelly
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Hahaha! Thank you so much. 🙂
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Unique, love it!
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Thank you! ❤
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I’d read somewhere about the heart kept in a drawer. That’s taking grief to another level. If I can be irreverent rather than Romantic-
worst potpourri ever.
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Makes you think what else she kept in those drawers.
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I felt the sadness and grief from that mad broken heart. Lovely work Lucy.
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Thank you, Grace. ❤
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Going mad leads people in some weird directions…poor dear Ms. Shelley! I love your description of the moon’s arms and then there’s “schizo wind”…cool. Gayle
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Yes, it really does!
And thank you. 😀
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Moon empties her woodsmoke arms
like blood fingers from a pale mist
Love your classic way of saying it, like ‘woodsmoke arms’ and ‘blood fingers’, brilliant word connections, Lucy. You did it throughout your poem. LOvely take, Ma’am!
Hank
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Thank you so much, Hank!
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Telltale heart, with a drawer twist. Darkly lovely Lucy. “Moon empties her woodsmoke arms…” love this opening line!
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Rob, thank you! ❤
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OH, that dark, dark drawer! Fair is fair, “…but you had mine” I can really hear that madness murmuring in the end! 🖤
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Thank you!
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Love the opening lines and what a twist to the ending. Lovely write. 🙂
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Thank you! 🙂
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🙂
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That is a love not so healthy, I say! Wonderfully done, Lucy!
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I agree with you there. Thank you so much, Dale. ❤
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It was mad – good mad! 💞
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❤ ❤
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Keeping a husband’s heart in a drawer takes ‘crazy love’ to the next level! Deliciously dark. I love both versions and I cannot choose between them. Maybe they could be a series?
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Ooh, kind of like Bjorn’s librarian poems? That would be a fun idea to consider.
Thank you so much for your thoughts and feedback. ❤
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That could be lots of fun…
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dark and delicious
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Thank you!
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I love it! The images are fabulous!
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Aww, thank you. ❤
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🔥🔥🔥
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Thank you. ❤️
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Lucy, who on earth other than you would think of “smudging air”? That is so brilliant.
❤
David
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Thank you so much, David. ❤ ❤
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I liked this, especially your inspiration for it.
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Thank you.
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I like the incorporation of Mary Shelly here. Her and the whole group she used to hang with was fascinating, and seemed like they’d be good fun at a black out.
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[…] A heart. […]
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Thank you for sharing.
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[…] A heart. […]
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Thank you for sharing. ❤
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