Cutting the Chords

So grateful you did not delay
to rip placental tie with teeth,
and split the victim from the thief
 

‘fore vital stem cells seeped away.
Invoked the lien of hardened gene,
the traits I loathe with you did stay,
 

left fest’ring in your shallow sheath.
So grateful you did not delay.
 

It’s time the wraith like chords were cut,
first harvested from hips left-right,
‘neath solar plexus, pulled in tight,
 

deep sapphire slashed as clutched to gut.
Burnt twisted wire in violet fire
no longer feeds your glow’ring glut,
 

darkbound in blood and spliced in spite.
This time the wraith like chords are cut.
 

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3 Comments

Filed under Octain

3 responses to “Cutting the Chords

  1. Cutting chords is painful but the gratitude of a gentle separation is evident. Wonderfully crafted Octain.

    Beth

  2. I’m always impressed when using form strengthens a poem.
    Nice.

  3. You’ve made this octain seem like something entirely different. So much sensitivity and sumptuous word usage, I seriously feel like I’ve slept in eiderdown when I read your poetry sometimes, and I don’t want to wake up!

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