Red Dalia

She’s gone now,
withered away folorn
within her unkempt bed,
her locks a sea of siren red no more.

In those yester days,
her silky flesh would goose
to the eager hands and loose
demands of lustful young
men and women.

When they’d ask her name,
(and they always did),
she’d smile and say– “Dalia,”
+++++++++++ call me Dalia.”
Flecks of gold would glint
in her beckoning eyes,
her head coyly tilted to one side.

And when they spoke her name,
her bare toes would bend and her curvy frame
would curl into an arc,
her erumpent cries
painting florid the lonely room.

“Promise me, you’ll return soon,”
she’d plead.
And they always did.

Til this day,
they still call her name – “Dalia”
But she’s gone now,
withered away forlorn
within her unkempt bed
the floral walls all she has left.

by Jason Weaver ©2013

Author’s Note: The photo that I’ve posted for the inspiration of this poem is an original painting that I very recently completed, acrylic on canvas, 20”x28”, titled “Red Dalia”

6 thoughts on “Dalia

  1. wow…very animated poem…her flourish the curling of her toes…and the bend…it gets the attention…and interesting character she is…there is some nice implied intimacy as well…

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