THE BLACK HORSE

I’ve cut the moon open,
so I could see you,
enveloped in a white cloth of light
from a leaking sky.
A premonition of you as the black horse
was right in front of my eyes –
an alluring distraction,
that turned out to be as annoying
as an itchy paper cut.

The feeling
of a fog-wet grass around my ankles
reminds me
of your shy attempts to hug me,
wishing it will spark the fire between us,
but
I remember feeling lukewarm already.
Just from the thought of it…

Apprehensively,
you make one step back,
then forward –
a zigzag of intercrossing intercourse,
that always tasted better in reverse.
Resentfully unsure,
you blend into a thick fog,
giving me that content sense of relief.

Don’t waste your imagination on me,
my tolerance is never coming back.

– Chatty Owl –

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52 thoughts on “THE BLACK HORSE

    • Chatty Owl says:

      Thank you, dear. Being the oldest friend of mine in this virtual world, your opinion matters a lot to me. Thank you for you praise and please forgive me my distance as of lately. I’ll get that fixed ๐Ÿ™‚

  1. Viraj Belgaonkar says:

    “an alluring distraction,
    that turned out to be as annoying
    as an itchy paper cut.”

    and

    “Donโ€™t waste your imagination on me,
    my tolerance is never coming back.”

    Those stabs in your words keep me forever in love with your writing.
    They always seem to jump out of nowhere and grab me by the heart and by the head and wrap around me as i succumb to the lust in these words that glide off your mind and onto my screen. Brilliant

    • Chatty Owl says:

      Wow. What a generous comment. But you see, thats why i take breaks in my writing. I dont want to just cough up anything for the sake of it, so i end up waiting for some unusual inspirations to find me. Im glad they get appreciated by people like you, whose writing i adore!

    • Chatty Owl says:

      Thank you, mister. As i have mentioned before, your poetry is very inspirational in the way i couldnt write, which makes me try more and more. Thank you for being such a great support.

  2. ramblingsfromamum says:

    Only you could give a goodbye as this. Can’t pick a favourite line, the image of fog wet grass around ankles is wonderful as are the last two closing lines, which made me think of the cruelty but also the beauty in saying farewell. โค xx

    • Chatty Owl says:

      I remember being very small, maybe 4 or 5 and spending holidays at my grandparents house. I would wake up really early and watch the sun coming up in the morning. The grass would always be wet with dew and I would stand there, barefoot, just being one happy kid. I still remember that very vividly.

  3. J.R.Taylor says:

    This was a very brutally honest goodbye with such beautiful imagery. I love how you can so seamlessly tie the beauty and the ugliness of a situation together. It’s almost like you are slapping us across the face as you coo us into wistful acceptance. It’s so damn alluring! Beautiful!

    “The feeling
    of a fog-wet grass around my ankles
    reminds me
    of your shy attempts to hug me,
    wishing it will spark the fire between us” was my favorite lines! ๐Ÿ™‚

    • Chatty Owl says:

      Well, goodbyes should be honest. If there is a need to say bye, then people should just be blunt about it. Right?
      Thank you for always stopping by and reading my waffle ๐Ÿ™‚

    • J.R.Taylor says:

      Absolutely! No one likes an open ending-being left to interpret what was said and what wasn’t. I think that’s even more heartbreaking than the actual “goodbye”. And Chatty! You are more than welcome! I love reading your picturesque words and feeling the feelings they give me. ๐Ÿ™‚ Please o’ please keep writing!

  4. Salty Frosting says:

    Interesting that the black horse, while visually bold, exhibits such wishful reserve… Gallops delicately over egg shells. Such a dark beast wouldn’t be used to grasping at straws… Perhaps he has no choice but to respect ( shielding eyes) the light born within a spirited soul whoas learned to fly high… Free

    • Chatty Owl says:

      The horse has no choice but to be the uninvited stranger in the night. Or maybe the horse is not aware if his bold and powerful status? Who knows now…

  5. Joseph Pinto says:

    “Donโ€™t waste your imagination on me,
    my tolerance is never coming back.”

    That reads like a punch to the face, as you know, there’s nothing I love more than prose out to hurt me ๐Ÿ˜‰

    Brilliant, Ms Owl!! ๐Ÿ™‚

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