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PK Wakefield
Poems
Feb 2014
Untitled
open me your hands
fists cruelly which
their tightness conceal
a
Slender
blade
Of
spring
In
heat.
(a cut distinctly of certain cuteness bleeding)A
dolllike limpness
of stiff
cherry breaking.
a branch of sometimes petal bearing stems.
(a kiss and roughness)
Open me them
there
slightness
will
bare
a span
of
lewd innocence.
a strip of easy with parting rain which sometimes in April feels like dying
feels like pusshing apart of lips, hot redness, and ***** of steep fuzz.
Written by
PK Wakefield
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