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She Will Sleep - Chapter 2II
She has hands of ivory crossed on her chest
in that wooden casket that you built from scratch.
She asked you to build it,
to carve it from the trees
that you used to swing on in the woods
when you first fell in love
ten long summers ago.
You put your soul into that box
knowing her body would be there soon
so you could keep her company.
She came into your workshop,
her I.V. tugged behind her in graceful, artist's hands.
A smile spread across those chapped lips
That smile that is echoed in your child's.
She wanted to try it for size,
To see if it would be snug enough,
To see if she looked good in it.
You let her, but walked outside the door,
Afraid to look and see the thing
That was already too close for comfort.
Your little one, the one who looks so like her
She learnt to walk beside her.
She has eyes that shine just like hers did.
She has the same concentrating frown that she did.
This little child, she is her mothers double
that you will cherish forever.
Those hands of ivor
She Will Sleep - Chapter II
She was ill, the doctors told you.
Your arms tightened around her slender body
As she slept beside you that night
And you cried into her ebony hair.
She smelt like cinnamon that night
You can still smell it sometimes when you sleep.
Your baby was restless in her cot
Her little fists as tight as sailor's knots
Like she knew there was something wrong.
Your wife was restless too and you wondered
If her dreams concerned the hospital,
The gurneys, the machines.
She squeezed your hand
When they took her blood,
The pain visible in her misty, jade-coloured eyes.
You felt it when they drew the needle out
And watched her turn a shade of grey
When her clammy head flopped back on the pillow.
When you took her home
Like a broken doll you couldn't fix,
She wrote letters to her friends who would miss her.
Your wife kissed your baby goodbye
And held her in her arms.
She sang lullabies in the nursery
And you cried on her side of your bed.
Your time was ticking out
Like the clock on the bedsid
Her Lips Paint MemoriesHer lips paint memories
on your pillow cases
that havent been white
since the day
that you bought them.
She leaves handprints,
white powdered handprints
on your bathroom mirror
that shows the man
you didn't want to be.
She throws glasses
and lemon rinds
on bedroom floors
and sprawls on antique pianos
that dont carry her weight.
she is reckless
but you were too
all to see the look on that face
as she sprinted through your house
or rather her house
because thats who you built it for...
her lips paint memories
on your lips
your lips who would promise
New York and the Moon
if it kept her here.
Her lips paint memories that are wiped too soon.
Look At The WavesLook at the waves,
how they crash on the shore.
Don't you think its like love?
inevitable that it will come to you
whether you love
or you are loved.
it can destroy you
or cleanse you
and it creeps up on you somtimes...
and it can overwhelm you.
love...it surrounds us all...like the sea
Feathers and PainLast night,
i had a night tremor
were screeching in the trees
that lined the clearing
in the woods
but i was more scared of him.
staring at me
through the gloom and cold
and my throat closed over
with a scream
the pale face in the trees
came into the half light
and his hands
reached to my throat
and in that voice,
the one that seduced me
so many times
whispered in my
three little words
"I. HATE. YOU."
and as he leaves
i lie in the grass
and three words tumble
from bloody, quaking lips
"I. LOVE. YOU"
he was gone then
and the fear of the birds
it flooded in
and everything went black
with feathers and pain
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More