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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
red, blue.

Submitted: September 10, 2009

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Submitted: September 10, 2009

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i had my hands on my eyes - eyes closed,
fingertips drumming on the skin there,
soft, veins beating, like a low thrumming.
my body is eager to survive, in its fragile form,
with my scarred feet and calloused toes,
with the tangles in my dry hair and soil eyes.
asymetrical smile,
half smile,
a smirk:
fire lips and sweet teeth.
the pulse jumps at the line of my jaw,
the blues screaming beneath the flesh,
like meandering rivers,
silver-aqua capillaries,
or lazy streams.


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