Poetry: cry - Peter the River City Attorney's MySpace Blog |

cry

she sits in her spilled robes
and pulls at her breasts
and beats the dusty ground
surrounded by lifelessness
tears trace lines on her face
and gather at the tip of her nose
and fall to her lips and mix
with snot and saliva and her heart
bursts over and again with each breath
she takes and each she takes
like stolen fruit poisoned and sweet
my children my children my children
each breath like stolen fruit
each sweet face dusty and smeared
my children my children my children

(c) Peter R. Van Leunen, February 24, 2009, All Rights Reserved

4:22 PM

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jessegannontruth

dang pete...

Posted by jessegannontruth on Tuesday, April 07, 2009 - 3:46 PM
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