Untitled
I polish his bones with my hands,
crumple his face
like sheets of soft paper.
Only his ice blue eyes remain,
Cracked porcelain marbles
I roll in my mouth
crumple his face
like sheets of soft paper.
Only his ice blue eyes remain,
Cracked porcelain marbles
I roll in my mouth
until they are petrified wood,
caramel rivers of sweet
flowing through blood;
and the pores of my skin
open like flowers
to his sun-soaked tongue.
caramel rivers of sweet
flowing through blood;
and the pores of my skin
open like flowers
to his sun-soaked tongue.
Kelly Thompson
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