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Open Poetry #41

A Beds Scorn

Tomer
Senior Member

since 2002-06-28

Posts 1168
Michigan

0 posted 2007-09-30 11:33 PM

You could see how
She felt,
How the words stared
At her with
The way they
Changed verbs
And left her thighs
Like long needles spiraling
With the back of her corset.

You’re never as young
As you think you will be,
Never a reason to run,
With a neat path,
A messy laugh,
A can of worms between
Her east and west legs.

As her palm lowered,
Facing his trust,
Where the lines on her hand
Strangled their ends
And wrapped each so tight,
The winces from her mouth
Bared echoes to the clench of her fists.

A morning weeps,
A morning wet,
A morning nevermore with regret.

TinaTrivett
Senior Member

since 2006-07-15

Posts 569

1 posted 2007-10-01 03:41 PM

Love it...very nice.

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