By Magdalena

i am a clock tower, bowing to the cloud shadows   
quenched by the rain   
sleeping under the stars, holding time   
a sidewalk stroller, catching my reflection   
in the storm puddles, left behind by winter   
and there, the face of solace smiles at me   
a healer of devastation, approaching the killer   
the bellyache inflicted on the crucifier   
i'm the femme fatale, in heels and smut   
absence in the void of your making   
the endorsement of your losses   
when denial finally slips from your skin   
the leveller, the truth, the escapist, the never again

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Copyright 2017 Magdalena
Published on Monday, March 20, 2017.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "Elan"

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  • dwells On Monday, March 20, 2017, dwells (5452)By person wrote:

    and Panache too Mags! So good to see you again; from Wales and gales. The tone of this put me in mind of one who asserted herself and possibly won a battle, but lost the war. The beguiled eventually regain their sensibilities; often at the expense of other sadly. Cheers! - Dan

  • Magdalena On Tuesday, March 21, 2017, Magdalena (929)By person wrote:

    Thank you Dan, good to see you. I'm sure I won all of the battles thus far, the war is always ongoing for everyone, such is life. It waxes and wanes but we battle on. I'm pretty ruthless in my old age, haha.

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