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Literature Text
and so they woke up
slowly
like sad fiction
and found you missing again.
you left no clues this time -
no lipstick gash
on the wine glasses
spinning under your feet,
no fingerprints
on the cats throat
still strung behind the curtain,
no note
stained with morning
left to sour the milk,
no strain of breath
sticking like feet
from under the bed,
no trace of skin
fermented
ground into the new
white
rug.
only your heartlines,
ghost clean and
pure
strung out on my mirror
with your smile.
slowly
like sad fiction
and found you missing again.
you left no clues this time -
no lipstick gash
on the wine glasses
spinning under your feet,
no fingerprints
on the cats throat
still strung behind the curtain,
no note
stained with morning
left to sour the milk,
no strain of breath
sticking like feet
from under the bed,
no trace of skin
fermented
ground into the new
white
rug.
only your heartlines,
ghost clean and
pure
strung out on my mirror
with your smile.
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Comments47
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what a deeply disquieting poem
...haunting perhaps
...haunting perhaps