i was so occupied by the quiet
that i didn't notice the rain,
tear-streaking my dusty windows
with the smell of the wet alley below
seeping through the cracks in the panes.
i raise my arm up and down,
tipping my glass back and forth
to coat my mouth in red,
a stain on my teeth
that i'll pretend is blood,
for all the hearts i've chewed up
and spit out,
and chewed up again,
paying no mind to the impressions
in my own
or how tender those muscles got
once caught between incisors,
juices lapped up,
glasses that we've all shared,
bitter tasting or not.
No comments:
Post a Comment