Love's Ashes Poem by Cristina Ventura

The crows are singing
Nails on a chalkboard,
Hair saluting
Follicular chills.

The frostbitten fusion
Of our matter:
Quarks of quirks
The snark of smirks,
It’s naked virginity.

The dirge of desire
Uncoiling cochleae.
The eclipse
Of our pupils intersection.

That detached shackling,
Fear bloomed bliss,
Dizzy sobriety,
The faint trace of a kiss.

The numbing ahh,
Of your awe.
We molt
The shells of beetles.

Marooned blood
Yields harmonious gasps
For diatomic oxygen;
Enchanting nerve gas.

The air of anarchy,
Full with our confetti ashes,
Dusting frontal lobes,
Minds sinking,
In sync.

The sensation of motion,
The coincident mannequin stillness,
Snowflake echoes of massacre,
Their sine curve undulation.

Our souls interjected
In this pool
Of plasma;
Lips dripping cyanide.

Wordless adieus,
Their tormenting absence.
Souring cognition,
Loops of amnesia impenetrable:
Memories.

Our internal laughters;
Then pain stained reality.
Vomited emotions,
Our dueling hurricanes,
Then the reaper’s touch,
This is our love.