Monday, April 20, 2009
How can you watch
and do nothing?
How can you be the one to make me bleed?
rain falls like poetry,
or like powder falling to the floor,
leaving me quiet enough;
and I hear you, I remember you,
not abuse, not incest, not your raping hands,
but your laugh; irreverent and silly,
your red hair,
your cologne, and
our tremerous bond.
Only for a moment,
which I have refused to keep for you,
the thunderous motion of your fist to my face,
you slipping where you made blood pour.
Posted by Sarah Elise Stauffer at 2:03 PM