Gown of blood
Lazily dressing the woman;
Smearing red water, always.
The legs she shot are rusted.
Death flooded her aching skin,
Chains sagged above her raw, white, knife ripped breasts.
She rose from behind a picture of heaving beauty,
Of boys and girls
Together in eternity,
Soaring away to skies of whispered tongues
As she leaves, but cries for drunken madness.
YOU ARE READING
Fridge Magnets
PoetryMy collection of Magnetic Poetry. All poetry in this collection has been created using fridge magnets, (with the occasional extra word or two).
