Vermillion, a poem by Emma Wells at Spillwords.com

Vermillion

Vermillion

written by: Emma Wells

 

On wings of flame
passion shoots through me
trembling blood
as wartime rumbling;
circling as hungry sharks
latent, yet waiting,
with bated breath
to unleash an ambush.

A taut tension
coats my gums
peeling back truth
as litmus test paper;
my vermilion tongue
holding secrets as locked chests
forced to still in attic forgetfulness.

I close my jaw,
rock to and fro,
re-rooting myself
to nursery rhymes,
a swaddled safety.

I don’t want them to see.

An ugliness
hides on unsteady stilts
where each bite
could unravel me:
teeth falling forth
as the missing piece
of an old hag stone
rotating in wisdom’s hand
wearing blank expressions.

Smoothing holes,
botching with patchwork gingham,
a mismatched, circus fabric
is my only shield:
flimsy as fairy wishes,
torn as blunt kisses
on inexperienced mouths.

I toil to conceal
wishing only to morph
within inky shadows
where you say my name,
letting my clown smile drop;
its cherry-red stretch
smearing the forest floor
with candid drops
of vivacious, vermilion truth.

You fold into me
as a sealed letter
and blissfully forget.
I do the same
mirroring the comfort
of symmetry.

Reluctantly, I turn to face the world
flashes of vermilion velvet
paint my lips,
speaking soundless flames:
a hot coal truth.

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