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Untitled, no. 1
by Stephanie Lane SuttonWhat curdles down the throat
curdles down the arm,
curdles around the pen.
Boils in the fingertips.
Puts her up against the wall.
What comes in the throat
comes out the mouth
and inflates her nostrils
and breathes hotly in her ear.
God is showing himself to me.
I can see the whites of his eyes.
I can count the capillaries
in his palms.
Builds up her ego
and lets her down gently.
Crawls back into its dark hole in the corner.
Gets real quiet.
10/23/2008 Posted on 10/23/2008
Copyright © 2010 Stephanie Lane Sutton
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