sitting on your bed
watching you dress
the sound of rain around us
falling heavy, a premonition
you turn your head sideways,
slowly they emerge
those knives,
four long stripes
whose fingernails
raked your skin?
why haven't they
gone all the way in?
dug deep into throat,
ripped out jugular?
let you bleed, die,
spare me this sight?
she has you
by the throat
you have me
by the heart
No comments:
Post a Comment