Killed with a kiss.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Bite your tongue 101.

Submitted: April 01, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: April 01, 2008



Your hometown, green hills spilled
a smoky shadow over the white face, drive-in movie screen like the sunset’s effect on window sills.
With cars lined in holy war rows,
ears pressed in an open mouth kiss
to their teenage romance headphones.
You left me alone in your father’s minivan
to sell popcorn in a deadman’s float;
along with swimming fish surrounding your two, blue lips--
a roped net gathering the insides that pour from your open throat.
You rose to the surface like the rolling credits,
reeling you in delicately; we left before the picture went black and the film wound itself around again.
I sang you a song on guitar in your friend’s living room that night with one hand on the empty glass of my third, red wine streaming straight to my head.
You were the orchestra and I was still nobody
when the curtains rose and the projector light was dead.
And the back of your neck held the palm of my hand in a sad moment when I killed you with a kiss and called it poetry.


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