21st Century Love. . . Andy & Aria’s Story Scene V

21st Century Love . . . Andy & Aria’s [Scene V.]

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https://allpoetry.com/story/13444185-21st-Century-Love-.-.-.-Andy—Arias-Scene-IV.-by-Lucretia-Mccloud

Act I Scene V
Narrator: With her battered pages held timid, Andy attempts to again read Aria’s letter through, though his bleeding heart gushing him guilt, creates a gullied rift in his desires,

disabled him of steady large artistic hands
contradictory in their caress then abuse of her.

When had he developed this demon inside?… Why, in an instant, could his anger torch a forest into fire?

He tried again to let her words in him life inspire.

Andy: (Reads aloud her words in hope
these prison bars in days to cope.)

Dear Andrew.

(His fingers crush the precious pages,
while sobbing tears dampen them like dew.

He lays them upon the cot
smoothing them out to start anew.)

Dear Andrew. Please read this poem entitled: Fear Fleshed Out* to you remind how I once viewed this life of mine:

Narrator: Andy visualizes Aria seated on a wooden stool, wearing one of his favorites silk dresses, colored vibrant blue.

She voiced soft words designed to breech his divided soul. His rational self many times just out-of-reach.

Aria begins to read.
Her tone with meaning deep imbued.

Aria:

Perched
on this precipice

ascending
rapidly

from
blackened
ashes

molded

into
a
solid
craggy

Mountain

High

above the ocean,

the speed of which

stripped
me
bare

of robe–

nearly
peeled
back

my onion skin.

I climbed this mount
turned mountain.

Took
the steep steps
of
“can’t”

“ain’t good enough”–

often repeated

snide,
wicked,
constant,

projecting
me

higher and higher;

past
any
silver linings.

*

First I floated
on a lake of crystal clear
rippled waters,

which

Could

quench my thirsty soul.

Then
Drown
I
almost
did

bobbing and thrashing,

frantic

on the
agitated waves

of cannonball
performers.

*

I
Permitted
a drift;

so why glance
for a sail?

(Do I really
desire
Salvation?

What
exactly

Is this place
called
Hell?)

*

I
took
the steps

escaping the whirling
whispers–

sudden
blessed efforts
to inspire.

Poignant
sweet
musings

that

plucked at my core;

mimicked stroked strings
of the harp

to pacify

my
bleating
heart.

And

Yes,

Light

seeped through

semi-slanted,

dusty

blinds;

Truly

sprouted

blossoms

on this crusty soiled floor.

Though,

across
windows
(double-paned)

in flight free
and easy,

birds in abundance,

More
Beautiful
appeared;

their varied sounds

garbled.

Their melodies unclear.

*

I climbed those steps
way above those birds;
Above that ocean.

I climbed higher
even when

my legs grew heavy
in the exertion.

Now?

I lie–cold and frozen.

Now?

I will shut
my tired eyes,

just a tiny while

Dozing….

till–

THE END.

Narrator: For Andy this was too much.

He curled his large frame into a tight human ball
in the corner of his cell

as a guard on duty kept watch so as to an alarm call

while Andy rocked and moaned
in this wretched zone hours upon hours
his pathetic cries echoing the concrete prison hall.

Yes, Andy rocked and moaned

in this self created
private hell now called home… TO BE CONT’D

*https://allpoetry.com/poem/12129798-Fear-Fleshed-Out-by-Lucretia-Mccloud

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