Three Poems by Belle Valentine



Margins adorned with your image
It’s an enthusiastic exercise performed
This hour; how might satiny hair
Settle softly today?
Habitual glances may struggle
To accurately establish candid expression,
But that cocked smile is my prepossessing muse
Even in your absence my grasp flexes with
The phantom of a pen
As I receive your likeness
Sincerely in the regards of all whom I meet
This pining will treat me with solace
Until you unselfishly sit for me again

Sweet strawberry

Watered down liquor cupped generously in two hands
Glisters with the lowering grave of sunset
I devour it desolately just as nightfall
Shatters my skull, hammer and nail
Splintering cracks into shivery eggshell
Through the shutter of darkness I am witness
To the shining of his eyes
At the sight of my gorgeous red blood
A feverish rush to unscrew the cork
Rewards him with ecstasy:
Syrupy wine spilling gluttonously
Out from all sides of his flask
The excess collects in a rancid pool
Gushing, receiving low on hands and knees,
He imbibes this waste as well


Feline effigy emanates gold
Silver, bronze; I count these coins
Conferred to me, rolled down the bastion
He has belonged nobly atop this mountain
For years: Always Leo, in his prime.
It was with lofty reverie I feel I conceived him
Four strong legs carried aloft on airfoil
His deliverance granted me ground
To stand with shaky fawn props
Now fleshed, firm, flourishing amongst the base

“To what do I owe you?” I plead now
Gawking skyward with awestruck eyes
His maw only mutters tenderly,
And with this he unwinds his wings
Lifting off from an empty throne:
A beacon that beckons,
A call that is answered by
The beginning of a climb

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