Blue-Crested Cry by Jennifer Reeser

We’re through, we’re through, we’re through, we’re through, we’re through
and – flanking, now, the edges of our schism –
it seems your coldness and my idealism
alone for all this time have kept us true.

Credulous I and hedonistic you:
opposed, refracting angles of a prism
who challenged sense with childish skepticism –
and every known the bulk of mankind knew.

by Jennifer Reeser

Other poems by 'Jennifer Reeser'

French Quarter Singer

Leaning Over Eros

This Night Slip, In His Honor

Civic Centre

Should You Ask At Midnight

Civilization

Imagining you’d come to say goodbye...

Renunciation

Miscarriage

By This Pitch And Motion