By Jessica Dendy

I’ve seen the snow

his white hand

over the river’s mouth

two fists beating

that drum rhythm

cracking resistance,

chipping resolve

- scattered teeth fragments.

I’ve seen the river’s tongue

beneath the frost, I long

to lie under it, curl up

to his salvia gland’s pillow

and watch the muscle move over me.

Posted by Mel. View all posts by Mel
Friday, July 1st, 2011 7:55 am
Categories: Issue 5.1, Poetry