deepundergroundpoetry.com
She knows her paper cuts by name.
Rose blood
on her tongue
reminds her of yesterday's.
Lonely bones.
A heart's hoarded secrets,
love me pretties, &
scarlet letter dreams.
But
do these boys know
of the bitter winter
churning,
like a blizzard
in her veins?
The sharp edges
of half-empty
kisses,
or the crisscross
folding
of origami limbs?
Her eyes,
as deep &
unfeeling
as the ocean;
she knows her paper cuts by name.
on her tongue
reminds her of yesterday's.
Lonely bones.
A heart's hoarded secrets,
love me pretties, &
scarlet letter dreams.
But
do these boys know
of the bitter winter
churning,
like a blizzard
in her veins?
The sharp edges
of half-empty
kisses,
or the crisscross
folding
of origami limbs?
Her eyes,
as deep &
unfeeling
as the ocean;
she knows her paper cuts by name.
Published 17th Jan 2013
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