Body of Work

[dredpiratebunny]

He calls me good girl as if I earned it
As if I my feet are bound, toe to folded under toe
a hand placed in front of my smile all the while.
Still life with running mascara.

The gift of words fall from his lips like dirty pearls
some to my face,
some to the floor,
tap-tap-roll
seeking dark corners and safety amongst the dust mites

The smear of his thumb colors my chin
as I take his speech into my throat
and struggle to inhale over it

He sees just another visible art form of breasts and
breath.
A ripple through the skin of blood and bruises.
A place where he enters

I only lay down
I only close my eyes
The only rebellion I can muster.

Comments

[guy-todd.livejournal.com]

This leaves me feeling desolate. :(

[swashbucklr]

I missed your writing. :)

[captain-snarky.livejournal.com]

Like.

[dredpiratebunny.livejournal.com]

FYI - I needed to tell you - I got some pieces submitted to a poetry/fiction rag tonight. I'll let you know if they also like me (;3

(seriously, I kept hearing you goad me on about trying to publish something hehehe)

[captain-snarky.livejournal.com]

Yes!!!!
Fuck if that one likes or doesn't like what you sent them. I mean, I totally hope they do. But the important thing is that you did it, and you can do it again. Seriously girl, if you put out a chapbook, I will give you dollars for it. I've loved everything you've posted on here.

[bunnygoth.livejournal.com]

Excellent, truly excellent. I felt this one.