Let Old Bones Lie

I never could tell
if it was my body
or my mind
he ached to strip.

He had a weakness
for pretty disasters
and ugly tragedies.
The cut
of his tongue
sliced through both.

Colors exploded
into me, violent
shades of him,
striking my soul.

Hush
your quaking
heart,
we have many
things to see.

Calling
rings hollow now
on the heels
Of those
violent bells.

Let old bones
lie, I will
cut you
fresh roses.

Draw the cold
from my bones
and break me,
again. He was
the sweetest
regret I ever had
to swallow.

© Nicole Lyons 2016