Murder of the Sacred Dance
by khf
The secret was 80 years old
Silver packed away
in a velvet box
Not a lick of tarnish
A family heirloom, of sorts
Buried with the welts and bruises
and Mr. Bell’s palsy.
And the lurking shadow of a roadless youth.
The skeleton
Secluded. Sheltered.
Eggshells and tippytoe footprints
blanketing its grave--
echoes of the sacred dance.
Still…
the drip, drip of acid silence
gnawed the velvet,
corroded the casket,
lapped the ancient bones.
Eighty years and running…that secret.
Out-dancing hellfire and straight-line winds
and the jab, jabbing of rusted, starving fingers.
Only to trip over a teardrop.
Imagine--
a teardrop murdered the sacred dance.
Exploded that dark mystery
from its coffin.
Blood everywhere.
A crime scene
splattered with plain, violent truths.
And bloodied stumps--
stinking of dirt and decay--
basking in the warmth
of a rising
healing
sun.
khf/1.24
by khf
The secret was 80 years old
Silver packed away
in a velvet box
Not a lick of tarnish
A family heirloom, of sorts
Buried with the welts and bruises
and Mr. Bell’s palsy.
And the lurking shadow of a roadless youth.
The skeleton
Secluded. Sheltered.
Eggshells and tippytoe footprints
blanketing its grave--
echoes of the sacred dance.
Still…
the drip, drip of acid silence
gnawed the velvet,
corroded the casket,
lapped the ancient bones.
Eighty years and running…that secret.
Out-dancing hellfire and straight-line winds
and the jab, jabbing of rusted, starving fingers.
Only to trip over a teardrop.
Imagine--
a teardrop murdered the sacred dance.
Exploded that dark mystery
from its coffin.
Blood everywhere.
A crime scene
splattered with plain, violent truths.
And bloodied stumps--
stinking of dirt and decay--
basking in the warmth
of a rising
healing
sun.
khf/1.24