I.
to drink from the same cup
as if our lips had touched --
open up your eyes, those sad eyes,
like my baby doesn't know --
II.
i comfort myself
with dreams of dying
in a golden spine --
angels falling like snow
before my eyes
and i remember,
with clitoral attitude,
the fingers that drew
my childflesh and
the pink blotchy flowers
of that dress;
that i smiled in, glazed red
and camera shy.
III.
i see in my palms
a perfect nectarine
and my chlorine dry eyes:
did i ever give you such a bruised look as a child?
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YOU ARE READING
THE OCEAN
Puisi'In the old days at home the Neverland had always begun to look a little dark and threatening by bedtime. Then unexplored patches arose in it and spread, black shadows moved about in them, the roar of the beasts of prey was quite different now, and...
