In the half light of the
Dying sun
Blood falls from her lips
Puts dark beads in
The sand
Around her fingers.
She traces the shape
Of her teeth
With
A tender tongue.
Taste of rust and redness.
A grimacing bloodstained
Smile
Stretches her aching cheeks
As tears slide from
A swelling eye and
The air
Echoes with the sound
Of her
Breaking laughter.
The waves moan in reply,
Licking up
The droplets of blood
And caressing
Her kneeling legs.
She breathes deeply through
A bruised nose.
It won't be long now.
Closes her eyes.
Morning finds her sleeping,
Face down
And out to sea
Her body haloed by a
A ring of dark color
Obscured
By the blackest blue.
The fishes are her pallbearers,
The horizon is her headstone.
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 6:29 PM UTC
In the half light of the
Dying sun
Blood falls from her lips
Puts dark beads in
The sand
Around her fingers.
She traces the shape
Of her teeth
With
A tender tongue.
Taste of rust and redness.
A grimacing bloodstained
Smile
Stretches her aching cheeks
As tears slide from
A swelling eye and
The air
Echoes with the sound
Of her
Breaking laughter.
The waves moan in reply,
Licking up
The droplets of blood
And caressing
Her kneeling legs.
She breathes deeply through
A bruised nose.
It won't be long now.
Closes her eyes.
Morning finds her sleeping,
Face down
And out to sea
Her body haloed by a
A ring of dark color
Obscured
By the blackest blue.
The fishes are her pallbearers,
The horizon is her headstone.
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