beauty fades

how difficult it will be

when a face no longer opens doors

when a surface fades as the moon does

yielding to yet another dawn

another day kept in the autumnal lines

by our eyes, where contusions pool

just beneath, like time’s tattoo ink

memories and mercury

wisdoms and wet dreams

how difficult it will be

when a home has emptied

when a body no longer blooms

a. duncan, 2017

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"She would fill endless notebooks with stories about the characters in her life, their impressions, words, friends, lovers, inspirations, fantasies. She spent her days dreaming up worlds where they fit together in visions; the if only, the never again, the someday. Those who knew her best would describe her as a creature with a clear and sometimes painful sense of herself; furious with ideas and convictions, to a point that she frightened love away with discernment and a relentless strength of character."

3 thoughts on “beauty fades

  1. I’m just laying in bed reading and checking WordPress and decided to read more. This made me sad.

    I’d like to think that even, after we age, there is beauty in the twilight. Hopefully that beauty manifests in spirit.

    Maybe it’s not just time that inks you, maybe it’s who you are as well. I feel like positivity and negativity has its hand in how we look on the outside and can influence how we change. But that’s just me.

    Hopefully people open doors for what I hope is a handsome face. Hopefully I still am granted a wet dream! A dream of madness, thoughts billowing together like ink in water.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I showed this piece to a few of my close friends and they all commented in one form or another – that it made them feel strangely depressed. Your comment echoes a lot of what they also expressed – a bittersweet sadness, it made them reflect on aging, beauty, their worth and mortality. The hope there is more to life and love than being physically attractive.

      I find this sort of remarkable because
      sadness is one of the few emotions that I tend to avoid in my work – sadness doesn’t inspire me. More importantly – this wasn’t written with a hint of melancholy in my mind.

      The driving emotion in this poem … is rage! I wrote this gritting my teeth, believe it or not. It’s actually a very pointed commentary on a woman (in my life) who uses her good looks to manipulate and abuse others … “How difficult it will be” is an angry declaration that she won’t be able to rely on her beauty forever.


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