NaPoWriMo 8/30 - The Lost Language of Wrong Decisions + Day 10 Prompt!
The Lost Language of Wrong Decisions
I
She tells weather by placing her palm on morning window pane and by mapping the flecks of light in his eyes
II
He found her behind a Secret Doorto a hidden libraryhe likes to say he took her down from a shelf and opened herbut in truthshe was decodingthe mysteries of the Voynich when he caught her eyein the amber light
III
She keeps ancient wisdomin her fingertipsheals blood of centuries with her eyes
Never had been so thoroughlyread catalogued parsedgently conserved and restoredin all her lifetimes
She yieldedto this greater light
IV
They decrypted each other.
He so long unopened.She so oft misinterpreted.
Unlocked each other’s magicIlluminated each other’s manuscripts
V
Joy overwhelmed himRadiance shone himMagnificence walked with him
He could not believe his good fortuneIn fact he did not believe in good fortuneHappiness was a luxurynot afforded to scholarsdreamers lovers
He closed herput her back on the shelfhe fancied he’d found her
VI
She had always loathed the spooky stacksNow she found herself embarrassingly mis-shelved crammed between La Morte D’Arthur and One-thousand and One Arabian Nights
For a long timeshe waitedtried to sleepsleep wouldn’t comeamid the incessant chatterof her neighbors
she began to realize she was deadanother volume lostto the fires at Alexandria
VII
Now that she was carefully archivedhe turned himself downuntil he emanated no light at allbut began to suck it from the ones who never thought much of him anyway
He would go on like thisFor as long asLife is not a mysteryit is science – biochemical processes-social Darwinismand filled with miseryas it should bealways has been
He had understood.
VIII
Fingertips probed a thin volumesandwiched on a shelfwith a tug it came looseits salt-stained pagesfanning fireflies of knowledgeinto the musty expanse.
8/30NaPoWriMo
2014
Prompt for Day 9: Things I've Never Worn
I
She tells weather by placing her palm on morning window pane and by mapping the flecks of light in his eyes
II
He found her behind a Secret Doorto a hidden libraryhe likes to say he took her down from a shelf and opened herbut in truthshe was decodingthe mysteries of the Voynich when he caught her eyein the amber light
III
She keeps ancient wisdomin her fingertipsheals blood of centuries with her eyes
Never had been so thoroughlyread catalogued parsedgently conserved and restoredin all her lifetimes
She yieldedto this greater light
IV
They decrypted each other.
He so long unopened.She so oft misinterpreted.
Unlocked each other’s magicIlluminated each other’s manuscripts
V
Joy overwhelmed himRadiance shone himMagnificence walked with him
He could not believe his good fortuneIn fact he did not believe in good fortuneHappiness was a luxurynot afforded to scholarsdreamers lovers
He closed herput her back on the shelfhe fancied he’d found her
VI
She had always loathed the spooky stacksNow she found herself embarrassingly mis-shelved crammed between La Morte D’Arthur and One-thousand and One Arabian Nights
For a long timeshe waitedtried to sleepsleep wouldn’t comeamid the incessant chatterof her neighbors
she began to realize she was deadanother volume lostto the fires at Alexandria
VII
Now that she was carefully archivedhe turned himself downuntil he emanated no light at allbut began to suck it from the ones who never thought much of him anyway
He would go on like thisFor as long asLife is not a mysteryit is science – biochemical processes-social Darwinismand filled with miseryas it should bealways has been
He had understood.
VIII
Fingertips probed a thin volumesandwiched on a shelfwith a tug it came looseits salt-stained pagesfanning fireflies of knowledgeinto the musty expanse.
8/30NaPoWriMo
2014
Prompt for Day 9: Things I've Never Worn
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