I
I wish I could have pressed my thumbs
against his pink nipples,
and pushed my knee inside his belly
until I wore it on the cap,
like moss on a stone or a bridal veil.
right i just got it
(kneecap)short to the point and a little disturbing lmao. (seriously)
i'm confused as to whether you like him or not. i do love the last two lines.
II
I wake inside my mother's flat
and her head is not a prop
I've placed atop the coffee table.
there is not a knife beneath my sheets
nor have I pissed all over her grave.
she's alive in the next room, in fact.
she's preparing me bacon.
this one's much clearer the subdued vitriol is there but tempered with reality. this one really works for me. good rhythm, a touch of sub-conscious humour (in my read) it's like stepford moms but with hate.
good write.
III
I'm in a hotel lobby. My sister's gone.
I'll be blamed for this. The decor's nice,
though, and the lobby is perfectly round,
with blue and yellow spiral shapes.
All I remember now is the panic.
And that the drift from dream to morning
was a long and arduous one.
for me, this ones my favourite. i see the move from guilt or resignation to what do i care, and then the eyes open and for a split second you're unsure if sis has really gone. the heart takes a while to catch up with the head and get in touch with reality.
again, a good one.
as always thanks for the read.