December 30, 2017

Poetry: “Savants”

We are not
The same


Diligently beholden
To none,
He glamours the resin
Of arousal
Across her horsehair
Bow —
Strung tighter
than a noose —
And waits for her
To snap.


Run my sobs
Through your skin;
Only then
Will you discover
The purity
I take hits
Off petty sins
For you to
Break another
Mirror —
Just to see
Clearer —
What you’ve
Always feared
To know:
You’ve claimed
A coward’s


Can you publicize
With cutting “I’s”?
Admit your hubris,
Own your flaws?

Or does your advice
Only pertain
To those
Who’ve lost
Their cause?


Don’t kiss
My cooling brow
To pretend it’s not
In vain.
Don’t tell me
Not to feel it
When we both do
The same
To each other–

Our selves.


© Jane Bled 2016-2018
All Rights Reserved.

Ice Dragon © Jane Bled