Sunday, October 24, 2010

St. Anthony Mary Claret (patron of textile merchants and weavers)

your cheek was sliced open

from your lips to your earlobe

like a gift. as if someone wondered

what could possibly rest behind

that thin blanket of skin. I put you

in a bathtub full of milk.

blood dripped, poppies bloomed

around your ankles and then

faded all to pink. I pulled the

drain. I couldn’t stand it.

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