The Writers Voice
The World's Favourite Literary Website

(Dis) Illusions


Elizabeth Finn

I see her through the amber-tinted underground of the coffee house,
Windows to the soul shut, save for the keyhole concealing a million flames.
Her tears never paint her cheeks, but remain acrid and unchanging,
Poised on the cusp of her liquid-fire brown eyes.
Her breath matches the steam in her coffee cup.
She exhales indignity in tendrils, like sweet hash or life-saving nicotine
While artsy has-beens circle around her, stealing her power
Through their horn-rimmed Rushdie impressions.
She fights them off with her gaze, and shifts her ambiguous arm,
Daring them to come closer.
I see her....
I see her strong fingers tremble around her not-too-trendy latte.
Melodic Baroque waves part the jazz-infusion of her smoky haze.
Her chic boots, their leather aroma still holding on,
Despite the organic stench in the air,
Suddenly uncross.
She wraps herself up, enclosing the warmth of artificial adoration,
And steps over her crippled soul,
Into the cold and breathtaking world.

Critique this work

Click on the book to leave a comment about this work

All Authors (hi-speed)    All Authors (dialup)    Children    Columnists    Contact    Drama    Fiction    Grammar    Guest Book    Home    Humour    Links    Narratives    Novels    Poems    Published Authors    Reviews    September 11    Short Stories    Teen Writings    Submission Guidelines

Be sure to have a look at our Discussion Forum today to see what's
happening on The World's Favourite Literary Website.