Sunday, February 20, 2011

The Burst Pen and the Bad Man

Category: Poetry/Lyrics

Don’t budge.
Ink smudge.
Let me clean you up.
Words to that effect
guided your spit-covered handkerchief
over my cheekbones, bird bones, so skinny underneath you.
Blush-blood mingled with the blue stain.
Skin tingled, purple with sudden shame.
Ridiculous, given
the ink on my shirt and my thighs.
Your eyes, they were a kick and a half
in the dim, dreamworld light
of a rain-drenched afternoon.
I’ll cry myself into a headache soon.

Posted by Cora Broomfield on 02/20 at 07:14 PM | Permalink
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