|
| |
Girl On My Knees
Girl on my knees her skin woman's,
where bulbs are floral not a light —
she makes up darkshade eyes with pins
girl on my knees
while in her dress, no — sans that bright
look on my tomb though still not dead —
with her tongue's first memory's bite
of a scarring sample of bread —
Jiff butter or glue, both pry mouth.
I stand in her soul, this movement
girl on my knees
Copyright ©
Paige Hind
|
|