{"id":67249,"date":"2020-06-27T15:36:36","date_gmt":"2020-06-27T19:36:36","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=67249"},"modified":"2020-06-27T15:36:36","modified_gmt":"2020-06-27T19:36:36","slug":"hour-7-the-season-of-my-undoing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2020\/06\/hour-7-the-season-of-my-undoing\/","title":{"rendered":"Hour 7: The Season of My Undoing"},"content":{"rendered":"

He envelopes my thoughts with echoes of his singing,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

and breaths each breath with measured intensity\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Casting doubts on my veracity\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I shiver under his certainty\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

My skin melts under his touch snowy,<\/p>\n

He sings slowly and I hear my siren\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

My guardian warning,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I will drown,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But I can hear only what he sings,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Fables of his desire distract from his reality<\/span><\/p>\n

Our breathing entwined, turn dusty whispers to ash<\/span><\/p>\n

Fingers tread lightly, searching for wants<\/span><\/p>\n

That converge from abstract to touchable\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

I hear the dawn of a winter unthinkable<\/p>\n

And let his singing drown my plea<\/span><\/p>\n

Allow his fingers an open sea,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Of wishful thinking where we reach beyond inquest\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And into surrender,<\/span><\/p>\n

His thoughts surround mine,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

His mind, devours my musings\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

His smile displays a victory,<\/span><\/p>\n

It grows colder outside and my fire dwindles,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

His music fades, and when I open my eyes,\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

My heart begins to thaw, and his remains frozen.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

He envelopes my thoughts with echoes of his singing,\u00a0 and breaths each breath with measured intensity\u00a0 Casting doubts on my veracity\u00a0 I shiver under his certainty\u00a0 My skin melts under his touch snowy, He sings slowly and I hear my siren\u00a0 My guardian warning,\u00a0 I…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":930,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-67249","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67249","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/930"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=67249"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67249\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":67317,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/67249\/revisions\/67317"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=67249"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=67249"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=67249"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}