literature

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IslandJoe's avatar
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Literature Text

Last night,
while the cigarette smoke
wreathed itself around our faces,
stinging our eyes to tears
and filling our lungs with poison,
she bled all over my hands.

My cupped palms received the
discharge of her hurt
(viscous fluid expressing itself from the
lacerations on her normally covered heart)
and I blessed the life that never allowed me
to develop calluses.
i wrote this over a year ago... and just re-discovered it... i must've put it aside thinking it unfinished... but on finding it (and editing it) just now i have decided that it is... finished i mean...
© 2007 - 2024 IslandJoe
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DesertSiren's avatar
Poignant. I can't think of a better word. I love the last line and am glad that I am the same way.

How are you, btw? I've been pretty scarce around here since my camera broke :crazy: The lens won't retract, it just makes a horrible grinding noise. BUT I am hoping that I can get a camera with a GOOD macro lens by Christmas *crosses fingers* :)