Carrion Kisses

I should’ve seen the black

dirt under your fingernails,

or smelt the perfume lingering

at your neck.

 

But your elbow, touching mine as we sat watching Countdown, kept you hidden in my laugh, in the twinkle of a sigh.

 

You came home late once,

brought me roses. Every

kiss a kitten-scratch on my

cheek, piercing, reddening.

 

But your fingers, lacing mine as we walked through the museum, quoting Shakespeare and Keats, made me smile through a cry.

 

You’d bite blood oranges through

their flesh, peel back the rind

like the skin from my lips, sucking

rubies between your gap-tooth.

 

But your scent, clouding me as we lay on sticky sheets at 4am, got caught on my tongue. I forgot the black eye.

 

Published by Turbulence Magazine: Issue 10

http://www.turbulencepoetry.blogspot.co.uk/

Advertisements

About Vicki

Wife, mother, student, writer. View all posts by Vicki

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: