Spring Break Up

 

Odilon Redon, Spring, circa 1910

 

Last night,

grief held my body

in deep soreness

underneath my roughened, toughened skin.

 

I lay awake, fearing to cry out

and uncork the bottle of my sorrows,

fearing the sound would

resemble new violin students

playing wretchedly and mercilessly,

and for too long.

 

Instead,

I listened for the birds,

like the chatter of children,

their rich, shattering joy

breaking silence with song.

 

 

© 2026 Jennifer Wagner

 

dVerse oln

Swarthy, Silky, Smoky, Smooth

 

I’m a 95%-er when it comes to dark and bitter.  I’m your girl, so lay it on me.  You go on and have that cry; I’ll hold your hand when the proverbial sh-t hits the industrial-size fan.  Sometimes I go well with cream in the cup, most times I don’t.  I won’t sugarcoat—but at least I won’t be bland.  And you’ll remember this night sexier, silkier than you expected.  You’ll probably even wish daylight would knock on someone else’s door for that early morning run you forgot you committed to, choosing instead to let you stay wrapped up in sweet swarthiness, letting you savor the last bit of darkness down to the last crumb, the last drop.

 

smoky coffee, dense chocolate

how such dark things

can make me feel so light

 

 

 

© 2026 Jennifer Wagner

 

dVerse Poetics: Comfort Food

 

image above created by me using copilot