Hope -
a sly lover, shadow-draped and bare,
whispering promises through the cracks of a locked door.
She walks on the edge of silence,
heels clicking a rhythm only your heartbeat knows.
She tastes of copper and honey -
bitter, sweet, electric.
Her hands, soft as twilight clouds,
press against your chest,
where your ribs ache with the weight of waiting.
She flirts with ruin,
dancing on the precipice of despair,
but never falls.
Hope doesn’t need wings;
she climbs, barefoot and bold,
her laugh daring gravity to chase her.
Even when the sky is bruised
and the stars have turned their backs,
she lingers,
a quiet glow beneath the ashes,
a stubborn ember murmuring:
Not yet.
About the Creator
Iris Obscura
Do I come across as crass?
Do you find me base?
Am I an intellectual?
Or an effed-up idiot savant spewing nonsense, like... *beep*
Is this even funny?
I suppose not. But, then again, why not?
Read on...
Also:
Keep reading
More stories from Iris Obscura and writers in Poets and other communities.
Iris Diaries: Play-Clay Dreaming
At 9:30 PM, Melbourne’s Yarra River explodes with kiddie fireworks - a dazzling performance for an audience that will be drooling on their pillows by ten. And here I am, Iris Obscura, once Queen of the Midnight That Was, now demoted to bedtime sheriff in the tragicomedy of domesticity. From high heels to house slippers - oh, the indignity. But don’t worry, I’ll glam it up for you. That’s my specialty.
By Iris ObscuraExclusive • about a year ago
Comments (2)
This is a stunning piece of poetry! The imagery is incredibly vivid and evocative, painting a palpable portrait of Hope as a complex and alluring, yet sometimes painful, presence. The metaphor of Hope as a "sly lover" is both original and powerful, capturing the way it can tantalize and elude us.
This is amazing! The way you describe hope is so vivid and powerful—love the mix of strength and fragility. Great writing!