Crushed
Linda L. Bielowski, Ph.D.
Heart of ice
Crushed in the winepress of callous caresses
Candlelight low, mood high
On matchsticks igniting firestorms of feeling
Melting defenses, striking down reason
With words that writhe and coil and beguile
Brilliant, bewitched coral snakes
Curling in ears, captivating senses
Drunken idols of self-indulgent meaning,
Graven images of the moment
Quench wicks of refining wisdom
The sober future flat lining