Sunday, July 19, 2015

in the twilight ...

in the twilight ...

in the twilight
you line up the stages of your martyrdom
across the kitchen table
and you say
"Look here and here
"Here where I bled red on my mother's white sheets
"Here where I was beaten into swollen blue
"Here where I loved with every fibre of my being and lost
"Here where I stumbled
"Here where I was pushed to the ground
"Here where I was trampled
"Here where I knelt and bruised my lips praying
"And look here
"Over here where I was left for dead ..."
but my eyes cannot follow
the twitch and shaking of your fingers
instead i watch your blouse
fall open
where the treason of your third button
reveals the beauty of your bare breast
so full of life



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