Untitled, 29th December 2015

She strung temperament

from one star to the next,

the delicate reflection of

a soul sold to permanence.

I watched as she leapt

from galactic gulf to solar apex,

showing little regard for the dreams

that hinder her metamorphosis.


How, I wondered, what she was.


How did she come

to venture through each sun?

When I follow and burn with Elysium

against her powdered heart,

against the fabric of remorse,

and grip with hands of bare stardust

those reserved remembrances.

Through even thought, the chaos

of her imbedded trance

tilt the loom into her cosmic dance.

Reassessed compassion

never felt with hated glee, I slip

like tarnished flowers

in forever’s breeze,

petalless, I grieve,

deceived by my own penitent core,

thinking I could be the worth of more

than ecstasy, as I watch

her string temperament

from one star to them all.

Poem © Phen Weston 2015


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