Mar 7, 2003
she died with poetic timing
this is a poem by henry rollins. its so vulgar but its almost sweet.
when she comes:
she pulls you close
she breathes in short bursts
her eyes close
her head tilts back
her mouth opens slightly
her thighs turn to steel and then melt
she is perfect
and you feel like you are everything.
how great would that be to have a poem like that written about you? here's another for the masses:
the baby was born. a girl. she had her father's nose and cheekbones. her mother's high forehead and eyes. she had her father's knife scars and her mother's track marks.
goodnight.
posted by sarah 11:42 PM
