My girl, my girl, don’t lie to me.
Tell me, where did you sleep last night?
Beneath the willow tree?
Its branches so lithe, so low.
Its lance shaped, feather-veined leaves
brushing sensuously across your bloodied mouth?

They warned me:
if she floats then she is not
a witch like we had thought.
But your incandescent eyes beckoned me,
consumed my rationality.
And I learned, you are so much more.

Blackened sky, host to full moon.
I am bereft. Abandoned again.
Shrieking howls from God knows where,
scream the undeniable truth.
How much longer can I endure
these monthly night terrors?

My lust lit afire by your smooth body,
entwined with mine so often at evensong.
But this I fear, left once again.
I am slowly going insane
knowing you have never been,
nor will you ever be, all mine.

Written for Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe.
Melissa is hosting and sharing information about the late singer, song-writer, Kurt Cobain. She asks us to consider several of his songs and use one or more lines from them, within a poem we post today. Image generated on Bing Create.

“My girl, my girl, don’t lie to me.
Tell me, where did you sleep last night?”
From Where Did You Sleep Last Night? / Songwriter: Huddie Ledbetter

“If she floats then she is not
A witch like we had thought.”
From Serve the Servants / Songwriter: Kurt Cobain