jeudi 12 novembre 2015

He never was a stranger

I have the skin of two different boys
under my fingernails.
My mother tells me to clean them out when
I realize my thighs still ache from
all the ways he made me fold
underneath him and maybe
I like myself being
just a little bit
dirty.
Is it wrong of me to want, darling?
Is it wrong of me to leave?
To live?
Today in the shower I washed you out of my hair,
but I leave my nails undone.
I sharpen my tongue.
I file my teeth.

Scratches on the back, Sade Andria Zabala..................................................................................

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