It began when I transcribed
the temporal glint in his eyes
as light. Content with my
my own imaginings.

Quuck to accept my own deceit.
Hungry for a time only for desire
sliced in two.

I failed to noticed when he didn’t
take the knife
And how the sky dimmed as it gave
into longing.

The bruised fruit pulled from the branch
left to adorn the grave.
Now I collect the seeds that
remain in a mason jar

My heart painted blue.
My hands stained from
the pickings.

-Tosha Michelle


26 thoughts on “Fallen

  1. 💙 That’s beautiful Tosha.
    Funny, the skies where gray here all day.
    Some how I felt comfortable with it, and tonight even the stars of the Milkyway seemed so vivid & clear.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Your poetry is so well written. You have such a great command over setting mood and maintaining it throughout the entire piece. Love and admiration can leave us blind to what may actually be happening. I was going to pick a favorite line and image to discuss but every line is equally as wonderful as the next. And, such a great song choice (another great artist I’ve never heard of)!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. So true. As your lovely poem in the depths of sorrow. Wanting so much to share, a life of equal simple pleasures. Your powerful wit definitely leaves a mark on this page of history.💙

    Liked by 1 person

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