Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Tepid
sans eye contact,
I enact
all the current
gyrations.
Mildly amused,
at your
pleasure,
I am haunted,
forever,
for settling,
for this
lesslessness.

From the ceiling
I watch us,
on the bed
below.
A rocket
on an
assumed
platform,
grandly
lifting off,
into my own,
private,
unmentionable,
outer space.

I am haunted,
forever,
for settling,
for this
lesslessness

Just some more of my careless farts
cut up of you, plath, and hawthorne

She marvelled how she could ever have been wrought upon to marry him! She deemed it her crime most to be repented of, that she had ever endured, and reciprocated, the lukewarm grasp of his hand, and had suffered the smile of her lips and eyes to mingle and melt into his own. And it seemed a fouler offence committed by Roger Chillingworth, than any which had since been done him, that, in the time when her heart knew no better, he had persuaded her to fancy herself happy by his side.
"Yes, I hate him!" repeated Hester, more bitterly than before. "He betrayed me! He has done me worse wrong than I did him!"
Let men tremble to win the hand of woman, unless they win along with it the utmost passion of her heart! Else it may be their miserable fortune, as it was Roger Chillingworth's, when some mightier touch than their own may have awakened all her sensibilities, to be reproached even for the calm content, the marble image of happiness, which they will have imposed upon her as the warm reality

High wires,
trapeze acts,
sweaty love,
surrendered
sans net,
vague kaliope
reduces sin.
Long time
No circus

Whatever scath
Fierce fire’s wrought
Jack will touch up
And fit for use
What scar’s been knocked
Into cracked heart Jack shall repair

If the woman is looking up at the ceiling and musing on the lesslessness of the relationship then you got problems, time to find a new rider, lol. Great write my friend. "C'

I really like the parallel imagery of "lesslessness" and "outer space"--especially since outer space carries the great big vast void of cold nothingness alongside the ever-extending reaches of stuff suspended in possibility.

What better bookends for poetic license than the concrete building blocks of abstract, unknown and mysterious wonder?

you have captured a passing moment of your life very nicely, Hes'. i enjoyed the 3rd read more than the 1st.

good write..much enjoyed, because I can relate