Recently came across this one that I wrote a while ago...
Regret
A wrinkled hand once
Delved,
Amongst moth-eaten silks
And watery whites;
Arresting,
One yellow tinged memory
Of a modern Amazon;
The time-tainted effigy
Of a hard eyed and heartless woman;
The old woman’s rheumy gaze
Flicked from picture to broken mirror,
“It was love,”
She whispered in earnest
To the eerily empty room
“More than anything else
I was born wanting it.”
But cruel shadow and truth,
The dwelled in the monstrous flower’s
Diamond glare,
Would not allow the triumph
Of such a liberal lie;
“More than anything else,”
Came the whispered cant
“She was simply born
Wanting”
A door creaking open once
Laid out before the fallen queen,
Tear streaked sky
And swollen sapphire sea;
Behind her,
The silenced Polaroid wept and bled
Shiny scissor blades
And salt.
