Sunday, April 6, 2014

rain

his jaw was cracking as it slipped over mine
my arms reached out to pull the knife from his back
when the tide is frozen on these ancient creatures
i watched the sunrise tell me all the things it had to say.

purposefully opening the jars of bleeding pickles
ending all the summers that we spent along the beach
a child with two thin flowers pushed right up against his hair
mourning all the ones he couldn't reach.

parasites, they feed and anger everything i hold within
the tree that steals the baby from right underneath your nose.
and if the patter of the rain against my brow was stopped
i feel sometimes as though i never knew you.

No comments:

Post a Comment