i’m stuck

I don’t have beautiful assumptions or
delicate fingers grazing 
the sweet grasses of balladry, 
no udder to secrete,
though I am bloated and obscene in this 
unnaturally large state of sadness,
a great pungent paean quivers with embers of violence, 
to keep quiet, 
I cry without embarrassment,
a hot broth of celery, carrots and love exculpates
my fermented hate—
I am loved, 
and I adore bleeding onto the naked leg and torso of the one 
culpable of such love…
because that is my gift, 
everything that lives inside me—crimsoned blush marooned
on the delicate flesh that wraps itself around me 
and senses the many men that I’ve tried so hard
to oscillate—
a simple brush of my hair—
a loving hand on my neck—
makes enough salt to make
those many men— 
float away

Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: