those cheeks won the favor
of the white queen. she reached
one blushing and bejeweled hand
out to touch them.
honestly, I never thought
they’d come to much---
those slopes of smooth skin
resting on a pillow, reddening
up in the cold world.
that’s why I taught you
how to swing the hair
out of your eyes.
that’s the surest way
to never come home again.
No comments:
Post a Comment