Posted in nothing special by maggie on 2009/08/31

while smeared cherry muck sticks
     in crevices his shadows carved
     leaving her insides empty starved
of cold that winter still predicts
she dreads the sleep she works to fix

a bleeding throat's her hand to hell
     with changing song that bends and warps
     and through come dawn a walking corpse
along cut rows sharp words compel
where ruin knows its mourning well

why wait why waste a vision blind
     now squatting caked in grisly dust
     misused ignored unsought nonplused
her vacancies a voice maligned
her openings a home resigned

they whisper secrets out and not
     her penance in a tempting howl
     too knotted as the choking towel
that held its birthright squeezing caught
for flight to blackened fading thought

then after whom unseens get called
     the naked broken ones and bruised
     the mirrored ones falsely accused
like silence her last grievance scrawled
his future grinning red and bald


Sincere comment by readers who accept responsibility for their words will earn my appreciation and response.

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