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SUSTENANCE
Private Notes
Private Notes
Notes
My sand paper skin
Peels back in paint chips
As I bake
And curl
And sizzle
In a sun that used to be just right
But I've moved
And I have a lover now
And I enjoy saying that
More than husband
Or fiancé
Or friend.
It sounds like I am a character in a dark Russian novel
Whose days are barren and lonely
Whose nights are starless and full of cold wood floors
Folded into the darkness of the sheet creases
And his shovel hands
Flaying me from the bone
Curl by curl
Until he cracks my wrists
And sucks the juices
Sustaining him like a meal of
Boiling crab
Flesh pink
And sunburned.
Comments
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Definitely have had that feeling! We can be parts of any novel though as the relationship grows!
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Thank you!
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Thanks for reading Kiersten!