long skin

it was dead when she cut through it
slipped open easily as if it had been torn already there
and, maybe, she remembered
in some shadow that cast
on the walls of the room inside her
maybe she remembered
the warm beast that was pain
struggling for surface

Lora Bloom

Moment 

Perhaps this woman will find one day she can look at him with a smile,
the one who crushed her so utterly she was dashed from her crust of self-delusion.
She will look at  him, still remembering every night when her bed
smelled of his back and her mind scraped with his words.                     
She will look him in the eyes and say,  "It's okay; I'm not angry
anymore. We are the same."
At this moment she will understand that it was he who conjured her
reflection and she who conjured his; their painful intersection pulling
them, if they are willing, a little further towards the complexity that
spirals up into that elusive light.

Lora Bloom
 
timelapse 

breathblack shadow
twilight
            heartbeating
                  heartbeating
check  pulse still breathing
    twitching
trying to leap
out of this version of skin
              still breathing

Lora Bloom

from January, 2001