the dangers of devotion


how does one drown

in a room full of familiar faces

on an ordinary morning

in fluorescent lighting

it’s clearly an emergency


bleeding (ballpoint ink)

straight from my arteries

staining the porcelain

crimson clawfoot swan dive

an unforgiving undertow

of unforeseen urgency

the dangers of devotion

the delusion of deserving

one last breath

of effortless love

before sinking to the depths

of inevitable neglect

my last words

“do fairytales float?”

a. duncan, 2018




© April Duncan,, A Woman is a Poem – Read Her, 2013 – 2018.
photography: Elena Mitinskaya


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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."

7 thoughts on “the dangers of devotion

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