Menagerie


there you lie
so like
some painted doll

your lips
the exact temperature
& color
of your blood
the red that screams the volumes
your tongue cannot voice

the fine silken
wisps of sunshine
that frame
your porcelain cheeks

then the undoll-like
bitterness
the almond pain
the traces it left
here and there upon your wrists
after the innocence had
gone
after the absence could no longer be denied

 
---  by Darren Jackson, Texas Tech University