In-SIGHT

Inanimately
eyes peer
through a gilded key hole
made of polished silver
laced with flakes of gold
and ruby stones..

Watching, privy to the interlacing of limbs
Hands in hair, mouths whispering tantalizing sweet moans.

She
Touches the face of he
The tenderness not yet known to the one peering
Seeking to find solace in a crack of love perhaps lost
Even if from long ago

The eyes they water, but denial refuses to allow them to tear
The heightened sensation of lovemaking draws the eyes ever near
Seeing

Unadorned
Shorn of all clothing
Angular creamy flesh envelopes the softer rounded brown FLESH of
woman
She
sighs
As he,
He kisses her lips

Pelvis to pelvis the two engaged
Intermingled
imbued
and divinely
Connected
Tis more than copulation
This
The eyes know
Tis this
Yes
The two
They
Who
Perfect the art
of lovemaking

The eyes
So Brown
Yet
So blue
Cannot stop fate
The tear falls
The eyes tortorously
Still
remain
unblinking

The droplet of sorrow
Salty and wet
Falls upon
MY breast
MY woe
MY love unbegotten
Now
Flows

As
I see
what
I
cannot
have.
Lying within
The arms of
Another..
She.
Her
Eyes
So
Unlike mine
Peer into the
Key hole
Shining
And
Reflect the love
(Not mine)
Of
He.

Wide Eyed Night

Insomniac swellings of eyelids not heavy
lead by nightmares while lying awake
Intense nothingness within the dark catacomb of
a bedroom always receiving my trussed up human body
Invasion of my privacy unfounded legality
Breaking every law within the darkness of confounded reality
Interestingly enough the mind still wanders
selling along the gardens of painted calls lilies on walls
Quiet,
one can hear the rapid heartbeat of time
Thumping, groaning within the chest of these walls
Indifference shackled together with hate of a night time fury
Screaming out in the settling of wood and bricks
a foundations house
And
Shh
dare you not move
you hag of pain
you whore devoid of rested mercy
Wait not for the batting of an eyelash
across a sallow face
The inky blackness of exhaustion seeks
The treasure of dawn's sun rays

But is it too telling the walk,
the run,
of the race
towards the edge
the end overall of a slumbered
fate
lost.

Written by Crystal La'Shaé Broadnax after another sleepless nite

Terminal Illness- Don't Mourn Me, Write Me an Epitaph

Enslaved, starved, stripped naked from my spirit, my flesh died many deaths, all in horror I witnessed each one of them..bloody, each one became erst more so, as I cowered , numb from the pain of submissiveness.. and yet my soul stood still. Searched. Found, my spirit, and pulled my she ghost life force within. It's embrace. Greater than one decade my youth, it's gloriously faded livelihood I somehow loved it away from me, spreading thin, then giving none, not one crumb to feed hand to mouth, as I should, nourish, l-o-ve me.

My soul. Stood. Stock still. Eyes wide open, mothering, nursing, ministering to the burdened down, lost innocence shell of my ethereal being. Waiting.

Now. I have died my last, but only one TRUE death, succumbed, took the last faltered breath, ceased now silent my earthly battered, bruised, bleeding heart.. no longer shall it beat.

Bury me.

Write this one REAL epitaph upon the stone embedded onto the earth greater than a foot the height of me.

My body died, gave in, finally. For, it could take no more sorrow, no more pain, nor the abuse from those who claimed they loved me.

Do not feel anger, sadness, or wonder as to why, how, and what ever could have become of me.. for MY STRONG AND WISE SOUL HOLDS HANDS WITH MY BEAUTY AND REMARKABLE ONE OF A KIND SPIRIT SHE AND I AM NOW SHED OF THAT WHICH BOUND ME BUT COULD NOT DESTROY ME.