deepundergroundpoetry.com
Capacity
Straight as an arrow,
and the copper taste it
leaves.
The kettle propped on
it's burner, properly hot,
it screams red-cheeked
for attention.
Her trembling hand lifts
the pot and presses it slowly
to her infant's arm.
Don't cry, hush, don't cry,
HUSH, she whispers
to soothe.
Inside she pleads,
don't love me,
don't trust me,
don't love me,
don't leave me.
and the copper taste it
leaves.
The kettle propped on
it's burner, properly hot,
it screams red-cheeked
for attention.
Her trembling hand lifts
the pot and presses it slowly
to her infant's arm.
Don't cry, hush, don't cry,
HUSH, she whispers
to soothe.
Inside she pleads,
don't love me,
don't trust me,
don't love me,
don't leave me.
Published 12th Jul 2011
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