Eating when she wants
occasionally dying back bloated,
her belly_ full.
The shellfish sickens,
and room swims toward
an explosive pink.
After rising with the sun
and feigning sobriety,
she vomits her guts out.
She is the Venus,
collapsed,
inconsolable,
vulnerable again.
Hot, awakened abruptly,
she hears him humming in the kitchen,
singing something about someone
named E-lye-zah.
On board, ham and eggs,
but oh,
those eggs he made
were looking back just then,
and oh,
her body knew what to do
but nibble at toast.
No comments:
Post a Comment