Maybe there are a few more drops
Of blood that we have not yet ******
From each other,
until we are
See-through skeletons
under ripped red umbrellas,
Bone dry
in our tailor-made threshold.
And maybe there are
Blacker bruises
we could paint each other in.
Deeper scratches you could give me.
And maybe we are not done
******* up our love through straws,
like it is a pink parky milkshake,
that will soon sour,
Maybe we should pour it away,
Maybe we should drink it down,
By the mouthful,
And just let it hurt.
-Jamie F. Nugent
Mar 30, 2016
Mar 30, 2016 at 5:24 PM UTC
Maybe there are a few more drops
Of blood that we have not yet ******
From each other,
until we are
See-through skeletons
under ripped red umbrellas,
Bone dry
in our tailor-made threshold.
And maybe there are
Blacker bruises
we could paint each other in.
Deeper scratches you could give me.
And maybe we are not done
******* up our love through straws,
like it is a pink parky milkshake,
that will soon sour,
Maybe we should pour it away,
Maybe we should drink it down,
By the mouthful,
And just let it hurt.
-Jamie F. Nugent
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