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The Line

by Ray Frost


A memory of lamps stroking chrome,
I fled from loneliness to my home.
Staircase stretched through mountains,
Washed by midnight velvet fountains.
Framed in a moment by the door,
My phoenix fire crashed to the floor.
There you lay asleep and serene,
Held fast by your courtesan queen.
I whispered sweetly in your ear,
The voice you'd have bled your life to hear.
A smile found its way to your lips,
Your hands brush a strange back, the wrong hips.
Eyes rose from unconscious mist to dawn;
Gaudy fantasy to truth forlorn.
My face brought shadow to the dark,
A depth of anger the demons hark.
Your veiled eyes groped their way to mine,
Through haze still found love loyal and kind.
My pain too great for tears to hold;
Blood-soaked sorrow screaming though untold.
Harlot woke and broke the silence,
Shrieks split our bones with mortal violence.
Welling up terrible and deep,
My voice bore down on the trembling heap.
Defiant, she sought to claim you,
Yet to me your wretched hopes flew.
My recoiling arms broke your flight,
Tell me why the deserter chose to fight?
Reaching with your fatal touch,
Force back my walls the pain is such.
Freeze the heart that you have battered,
Agony fills eyes through souls shattered.
Your arms were once my home and hope,
Now you hold my neck in burning rope.
Tonight my heart-bound line was crossed,
Tonight you strayed and my love was lostů


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