deepundergroundpoetry.com
Dark Mercy
Evening light
sweeps on
leaving her skin
an autumn shade
of blue and purple,
bruised
by the shadows
of her nakedness,
and then
my eyes follow the lines
of her touch,
sympathy
and a powdering
of mercy.
Fingerprints tell
the story,
and the windows
are all open.
runningturtle87
sweeps on
leaving her skin
an autumn shade
of blue and purple,
bruised
by the shadows
of her nakedness,
and then
my eyes follow the lines
of her touch,
sympathy
and a powdering
of mercy.
Fingerprints tell
the story,
and the windows
are all open.
runningturtle87
Published 4th Oct 2012
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 7
reading list entries 0
comments 13
reads 871
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
4th Oct 2012 4:47am
4th Oct 2012 11:26am
There comes a point when all the looking that can be done is done...right, JG? Thanks for reading.
4th Oct 2012 7:02am
Is that a portrayal of a woman found murdered? Gives her a beauty of sort before the pathologist (medical examiner in US) gets his hands on her.
4th Oct 2012 11:32am
This is in fact a forensic scene, but rather than murder it is a bondage moment, the dappled ambiance having been created by the dwindling light of the late evening creeping in through the blinds. The stages of development have led to her being investigated, cavity searched, taken in for inspection, and thoroughly examined. Not a stone is left unturned, Solomon_Song; glad you liked it.
4th Oct 2012 7:53am
Brilliant, i love the last paragrath.
poem flows really well
a joy to read as always
zenith
poem flows really well
a joy to read as always
zenith
4th Oct 2012 11:35am
Zen, your comment is very appreciated. Joy is, to me, the highest standard. Happiness being so fleeting, joy is, IMHO, the most underrated of the emotions. Thank you.
Anonymous
4th Oct 2012 11:01am
Really, really nice, RT!
Strider
Strider
4th Oct 2012 11:37am
You know you are ready when the fluctuating light on her skin is enough, eh, Strider? Thanks.
4th Oct 2012 12:08pm
ah man, as soon as I read the first line I was thinking about Phillip Marlowe; couldn't quite recall the names of the detectives Bogart played!
Truly a "classical" poem!
Truly a "classical" poem!
4th Oct 2012 12:40pm
Whoa.....that is some smooth talking....Gentleman Jack as a boiler maker with amaretto....Jazzmanor, you hit my sweet spot.
5th Oct 2012 7:38am
Couldn't help it---you took me back to junior high and my English teacher who was the niece of one of the south's best writers.
Anonymous
4th Oct 2012 4:12pm
So short but so effective...WOW!
4th Oct 2012 4:17pm
