lanterns September 29, 2009

I lied to you,
it wasn’t quite how you imagine.
time-twisted shapes easily shift, as you know,
and I don’t mind at all
that weeks washed colour from your vivid pain.
It was that evening
when you combed my hair so gently
and your flaccid tongue in my mouth was as cold and dead as
a slug-fed fledgling.
you made my flesh crawl.