A small installment

Perfumed with myrrh and gum-diseased her smile
that upward turned her plum-like lips, she waited
with a smirk that never touched her blood-stained eyes.
The left part of her face was youthful, peached,
the other grayish old and marked with leprosy.

I met her in the lobby-bar, where she had drained
her fifth Martini for the night— Surprised I
realized she knew my baptized names
as well as every secret moniker that’s been
given, gasped or whispered in the dead of nights.

“I’m Death, and I am tired”, she pouted, while she
used her burgundy fingernails, to draw designs and
numbers in the polished countertop. “I know how
many strokes of heart that’s left, I know, I sense
when you are ready for a tryst”, She pointed

at the right part of her face, “when I regain my youth,
when my disease is gone, we’ll kiss, and like
a lamb that’s led to slaughter you will follow me to bed.”
She rose to leave and I was left to pay her bill,
a small installment for the gold I’m due to pay.

Kiss by Edvard Munch

Kiss by Edvard Munch

Today Karin wants us to write a narrative in our poem at toads. I decided to combine it with Susies prompt on describing death as a woman. I also link up at Poetry Pantry.

September 18, 2016

34 responses to “A small installment

  1. Wow, you painted her so scary – and so real. A cool idea to write death as a woman. Hmmm….maybe I can conjure up a tall, bearded hero at the end of the journey – Mr Right, come at last, LOL.

  2. You really excel at these narrative pieces – dare I say bring the paintings alive.. I’ve never thought of death as a woman.. But your words and that sense of tiredness convey so much

  3. Oh Bjorn! I am trying to incorporate both Thurs and Sun’s prompts together too! Since I haven’t written mine yet I had to stop reading yours — don’t want to be influenced!! Will come back later…

  4. Your Lady Death was not sweet and nice and could not be enticing in the form she was. Still one must pay her bill. This was a fun read, I especially like the “every secret moniker” bit, I do that sometimes and unlike her, I am harmless.
    ..

  5. “I’m Death, and I am tired”, and this is really chilling because you won’t know what she will do next.
    a very well crafted dark narrative. is there a sequel in the works? 🙂

  6. Bjorn, another great write. Your personification of “death as a woman” goes well beyond the prompt. She is creepy. She is half beautiful, as befitting the release of death (also hinted in “come to my bed,” the romance of death). The burgundy fingernails tracing, tracing. Yeah, you nailed it.

  7. I never thought of death as being tired until I read your poem. But why shouldn’t she be? She does the same thing over and over again. It must get boring, don’t you think?

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