While Their Babes Sleep On
Hand on throat and hand on hip,
Skin of gullet, skin of thigh,
Cinching fingers, Angry lips,
Stale submission, choked replies.
Fan blades over souls asunder
Rotate slow in salted air,
Humming blood through leaking laceworks,
Flesh left bruised and flesh left bare.
Sweaty teardrops, gasping mumbles,
Cinching fingers, angry lips,
Snap and tangle, Thump and tumble
Breathless throat and rigid hip.
4 comments:
Is this referencing something in the news? I feel like I ought to know.
Ms Trapunto - I don't think so. Its funny, but I wrote it two weeks ago at some particular inspiration, then set aside for a while. When I cam back to edit, I no longer had any idea why I wrote it in the first place...
I love the density of the thoughts/words as they roll into one another. This one feels like it was meant to be read aloud.
Ms Caniad - Thank you! Sound, yes, I was just talking to my friend, Ms Trapunto, recently about writing reflecting sound or touch instead of sight, and I think it leaked into my writing when I was thinking of this.
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