Wednesday, June 28, 2006


The mirror shimmers purple
And I gaze at myself
There he is lying stretched
across the ceiling.

It's so nice to hang out
We drink vodka
because lemon is tart
and I take in his gun metal eyes
his skin like industrial plastic.

Wonder why love is a fleeting moment
That intense almost
but not quite

I cannot hold on
and there is no tomorrow.

I have a tiny sliver
I make do with this tiny sliver
I comprehend me in this tiny sliver
and then I move on.

Ashes fall from his body
We are done.


Nessa said...

Your poetry is so pretty. Sad, but pretty.

Nessa said...

Jenn, did you hear what our girlfriend said today? She's planning on killing off two main characters and one of them may be Harry! Oh, no. Oh, my.

I think it may be time to re-read the series again.

Erratic Scribbler said...

It's so hard to comment on these things because they are so wonderful and so sad and seem, therefore, so real.

Anonymous said...

Very melancholic Jenn! But very very nice...

Jenn said...

Nessa: Thanks. Also, I don't think I'd mind if she does. After the sixth book, nothing can ever be the same again. I huddled in bed and cried for two days then. One sister understood. She looked up from her book in sheer horror and disbelief, shaking her head, screaming, no, no, no, no, no! How is the world ever going to survive? (Do you think we are taking this too seriously?)

PTB: I understand. And thanks.

Grey Shades: Thanks. Melancholic is my middle name (used to be Carol, but I got sick of it)

Iris said...

Beautiful.......with a tinge of sadnees:-)

Jenn said...

Thanks. And welcome to my blog.

Charlene Amsden said...

Your template reflects your contemplations. Mostly shade with glimpses of light. Beneath the pain, there is hope here.

Anonymous said...

Carol? Hmmm I like that name! Come to think of it I pretty much like all anglo names!

Jenn said...

Quilldancer: A different perspective, hmmmmmm...welcome to my blog

Grey Shades: Glad you like the name. Now just remember never to use it.