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by Desdemona Sinestra

deprivation is the key to the little smiles, on a mouth blistered by dares and frequent motion. the flickering isn't beauty.

the spine exists where the soil's been parted. where her lithe corpse begins to send off little, tiny gases. starvation is the answer to a face riddled with hope.

his malfunctioning body, the canvas to a storm of viscera.


Posted on 03/02/2012
Copyright © 2024 Desdemona Sinestra

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 03/02/12 at 06:54 PM

Potent imagery here.

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