Friday, July 06, 2007


A woman like that is not a woman, quite,
She takes you where you don't want to go,
Limbs open, heart locked, brain on suspend,
You see mauve lions and
tell her you want to go home.

But she lets you fall,
down the warm cave of her throat,
and you sing of dead birds and Gruyere,
as she licks wine upon your tongue.

The wound is exposed
and you bleed sadness.

You will never stop falling,
She has gone now.
You will never stop falling,
It has ceased to bleed.
You will never stop...
love at midnight.
You will never...
La dolce vita.
You will...


john calica said...

it's as if you read my thoughts and wrote them in a manner that can be felt. painful, but beautiful...

Jenn said...

Who was she?