David Niall Wilson

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Sharing an Old Poem

David Niall Wilson

Long, long ago I went to one of the first two World Horror Conventions. Among the things that happened there – I bought Kathe Koja’s novel SKIN, which she autographed for me… and I bought a sculpture that I could not really afford, but could also not resist. It’s called “Resonant Kiss” and was created by the inestimably talented Lisa Snellings. At some point, I wrote this poem inspired by it…shared for the first time here:

Resonant Kiss

By David Niall Wilson

Inspired by the sculpture of the same name by Lisa Snelling

8:14   February 12, 2002

She sat rigid,

Legs curving gently as

The arched spine of the chair

pressed to her back.

The light was dim – and deep,

It seeped about her, curling with

The smoke of three dozen candles

flickering . . . dancing . . .

No music, and yet, they danced.

The sound floated softly on the breeze,

swirling in through a window,

Dropping from somewhere far above,

or rising from below.

He played for her each night,

and each night the sounds resonated

within her soul….

Each night she felt him nearer,

wrapping tightly

Binding with the subtle ties

of sound, and passion

brushing through her mind to

Erase thought and

Replace it with heat.

The feather brush of fingers,

flying note to note to skin to soul

and steady, rhythmic strokes

of soft bow strings

Teased her relentlessly

With whispered words

Just out of reach,

And a face that wavered

On the periphery

of consciousness.

He played

And her head dropped back,

Long hair draping over the chair,

nearly to the floor,

Her eyes closed to the lonely night

Her world an echo of notes,

Drifting

In the arms of the night.

Somewhere far above,

or below,

he caressed the curved neck of his instrument,

eyes closed and fingers lingering

against the vibration,

bow flinging his heart to the sky

He acknowledged her sacrifice,

clasping the wooden frame of his magic

Tightly between his thighs,

and dreaming – –

of her eyes.


Copyright © 2021 David Niall Wilson