Saturday, February 11, 2012

Rug Burn by Martha Kinkade

Lover, I toast your balding scalp
with the beauty of cruelty.

Beads of sweat drizzle
down the length
of your neck.
Once, my love,
I saw a gypsy leading
his saddened beast.
Its metal nose-ring
captured
a muzzled snout.
Like you and I,
this chained embrace
leaves an empty uncertainty.
And now, what’s left
from our turbulent blue –
wasted and chafed indifference.

Both of us, unbearably numb.

Each time, we die,
each time, we look
at this chewed bone,
dried from saliva
and marked
by rotten teeth.

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