My story is told through my work…
Thick, red pungent smokiness scars her mouth
underneath her dark, lacy mask of despair.
Her eyes dance across the room, searching.
Searching for what, or whom?
Her eyes will not whisper.
It could be to stalk her prey,
secreting sweet venom on dotting minds,
and as the words she curses roll off her satin red lips:
They all turn red…
They all fall down…
-Annalise Wellman
This is an intriguing poem, with its poignant imagery and elemental simplicity. To me, it evokes thoughts of our passions and desires, and a kind of loneliness we face in them.
Barry Smith
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Thank you so much, Barry. I am so glad you uncovered a meaning to my poem and were intrigued by its literary features, especially a meaning that encompasses all aspects of this poem. Thank you again for your support!!! It means so much to me!!
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A.W. Books & Poetry 
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