Blog Archive

Monday, June 4, 2012

Poem: The Lovers

 The Lovers 

Fingernails melt leaving
White hands dripping slush
Of skin and smudged bone

He is burning of the canvas
While eating make up off
Her face

The tub fills
Up with bleach,
They sip black ink breathing
Words of yearn

Smoke engulfs
Bright eyes
High brows

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