Litkicks Message Board Archive

quiet soul-baring

Posted to Action Poetry

as the solid hours
turn gauzy
in this room
under batik purple and orange
you rip the wrinkled clothes
from my screaming soul
with hands of gentility
that ravage my interior
with wild abandon.
my voice a whisper
for fear of waking the girl over there
(the walls might hear)
and it is for you,
all you,
i sigh into your ear
telling you of my eventual end.
my star blinking cosmic death
that was destined to occur
sometime before you.
(i am a girl with sieve-like holes)
when the room spins
from too much easy vodka
rushing through these quiet veins
i want to hold you with words.
did i tell you too much?
(the sober fear settles like winter)
my mouth is on your neck
sliding in snail trails against your flesh
and i am tracing on your chest
the words,
"i'm yours.
you're beautiful.
don't ask me to stop."
there is no apology
in this midnight
for the reason that
you've ripped my soul clothing
never to be worn in this fashion again.
you've ripped it
and bared my soul.
how can i ever show you
how the world
will never be worthy enough
of your breathing?