unquiet response

 
 
 
Is Insanity ever quiet?
Stars burst within confined mind’s
brilliant fire, catching curtains, igniting tapestries.
Scorched odor pervades;
crumbles crumple, a vast array of sand.
 
She takes his hand, follows vein cliffs
over warm comfort, traces trails of memories
to compassionate embrace.
She was never a rock, craggy and solidly secure.
She was the windswept sea, invited to taste shore.
How dare he wander to sink in sand and fire’s remnants?
 
“Faith” flickers from mouth to sad, sad eyes.
He is lost.
She feels a scream of unwanted laughter form
like spittle, twisting from dry mouth to flooded eyes.
.
.
.
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