Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Saliva

subterranean movement
shakes like alzheimers

tastes like soil
and soil alone

it wasn't even alive enough to die

riding the moon like veins
confessions over drinks

how stars disappear
shedding light
like a winter coat
a shawl that serpentines
to the ground

using a finger
to stir the universe
like a bowl of cereal

the barrel of a .45
wet with saliva

a yellow lilly on our dinner table

and she'll smile
and we'll talk
and she'll hold my hand when we walk

but touching on beauty
does not make me beautiful

2 comments:

Annissa Lynn said...

Delicate taste. Good one :D

Grae said...

the taste of gun metal. tanks mang