An Owlet Calls

hospital sounds occurred as

limp wires stretched to where she lay

quiet

body traumatised by the crash

she would scar , she would heal

away without him

her abuser,possessor , nightmare husband

a moth glimmered in her eye

how did it get in

then seemed to grow

expanding into something larger

she managed a smile

as it settled upon her

she sighed

it’s body pressing on top

a noctuidae

face bearded wise

antenna folded, she wanted to touch

trying to speak intubated

a gargling slur of nothing

I will protect you

it seemed to say

a fair exchange would be

probiscus probing pressing

her vein rich neck

flowing with oxygenated life

it pierced her flesh gently

a soft penetration

unlike others experienced

she would be safe

the owlet moth said so

quiet

she slept

Owlet moth copyright Daniel Kaliko

#PWpoetryprompt

periodizing memory

tribal myths
of urban erosion,
human decay and devalue
enlightenment forbidden
left to the poet of society

paint flakes
as fingernail connects
a worried sore of what
is left behind

concrete and brick convey stories
only as far as we allow them,
corridor routes to many rooms
as with memories

how can this be a composition
construct of words and thoughts
when it rambles
on moth wings
escape can be a broken window

table and chairs
foam guts spewed
he had broken vows faith trust
here eager in his own involvement
thought theory and contradicts

bruised face spittle dampened
punished and beaten
because of an instinct survival brings
hungering lust
to nest burrow forget

she was resolute
evaded and survived
he had been
twisted by triggers of pain
another room
dabbing spittle off his chin
lifting spoon to weak lips

as with muscular distress
he watched her consume passion
with one who cared
his brutality had brought him
to this

left to collapsing rooms
becoming fabric of the dust
a horror myth
of haunting and fear
for others not her

moth had found a window
grease streaked broken
jagged edges did not connect
with fragile wings
bruises heal
fading as time can

garments that have been pressed

seek her in her grassy tomb

flesh fleece and evening star,

murmurs rise from escaped soul

mouth a shrine to heavens kiss,

text on stone chiseled deep

scythe a scalpel to those around,

to a vow made on cradle key

in binding earth no more a sleep

a million flakes of tempted tremors,

noonday heat rises with the sun,

rise up on quivering breeze

her broken tongue is healing

love a radiant throng

the sick longing eye and dropping of

gossamer veil,

chants names of those  exposed

beyond wither,

whole flesh again

i wish back that angry fist

spirits breathe in sensual undulate

on pages of book no longer departed

i have said my piece up to space,

enameled hand paints gallery in the cave

images as she had been growing wild

reaching out,

some say i am a crook

a felon

a murderer

an abuser

LA has no cheap glories for them to remember

i am hunted,

drone circling over head,

zeal of vocal chords will not be heard