deepundergroundpoetry.com

Because chopping boards sound like

destruction  
in a different skirt  
 
like taut wires  
on old pianos  
hammering out  
their dust  
their ache  
 
tools  
and nails  
and fistfuls  
of earthy  
silence  
 
that blunt blue button  
that wiped out the air  
 
like umbilicals  
butchered fresh  
from the womb  
 
like police cars  
and terror  
 
like your bomb  
I have not allowed  
to bloom
Written by Northern_Soul
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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