Saturday, August 31, 2013

Pick Up Your Own Damn Pieces

 her eyes burn savage, her lips go thin,
the love that buffers this hard sweet life
clocks her on the chin, revealing merciless 
glistening flesh, reduced to this, peeling away 
the frame. we could destroy and rebuild
and never be safe again, he said, sadly—
but with a grin. that's just what he was,
a petulant fog, an itching phantom limb.
did she ever look back? there's no fucking way—
the door missed her ass by a mile. unwilling
to host any lingering ghosts, she fucked
that note sincerely, protecting her delicate
architecture with a drunken bombardier.

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