Future Man and Wife

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  • Angst

    Future Man and Wife

    Glossy mags
    Veiled
    Whitened teeth
    No wrinkles
    Fresh whiteness
    Petal corpses
    Preserved on paper
    Flowers buried
    In black plastic.

    He grinds and moans.
    She watches the clock.
    Her bruised breasts
    A dish breaks
    Shouts echo
    He sleeps
    Turned away
    Her eyes flood
    A stranger’s thong
    Ring pawned
    Once worn gown
    In a closet tomb
    Moths devour.

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    Poetry is not the expression of personality but an escape from personality.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    AmberDawn’s Poems (4)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    A New Morning 0
    American Dreams 0
    Future Man and Wife 0
    The Residue of Saturday Nights 0