Underneath the Floorboards and Months Across these Doors.A Poem by Jeanmarie Flaherty
He sat there, turning his fingers around and studying the fingernails that
against the windows I had kept...
for fear of seasons dripping in, he
with no concern for the curls that fell across my winter worn cheeks, for the moisture that covered my face, for the blue eyes that stripped him...
I ignored the lack of depth in him and measured his silence with yardsticks 2 feet too long, his inappropriateness excited me...
and I dissolved somewhere in the mess of sheets on a Tuesday afternoon, while he
telephones and excused selfishness with a kiss upon my skin, Decemeber-drunk and ripped
between his teeth.
I reasoned with logic and mocked the irritation of my heart, he was out of sync with tomorrow, she breathed him out with the sighing of dandelions, he stuck himself
right in the middle of me
and I accepted nothing, the edges of my brain stained with Edger Allen Poe and the absence of literature inside his mouth...
I could smell him down in Florida and I knew....
somewhere in the cracks of me I still wanted him, he bled from my skin with no
that now resided in my head, I was nothing more than a corner to him, nothing more
than cobwebs and something
a little bit
I shocked myself with his disdain for acceptance and watched him dirty himself with pride...
my fingers on his forehead to hear the rattling of thoughts
and silence screamed back with the audacity
but winter loved us once, and arguments mirrored secrets, he slept, violently, and I rocked back
on the edge of these memories yesterday
as I washed his
off my bathroom door.
© 2009 Jeanmarie Flaherty
Shelved in 10 LibrariesAdded on December 22, 2009
Last Updated on December 22, 2009
The Woods, PA
AboutI am. That's it, nothing else, a living breathing thought process, I got stuck somewhere in the middle of my brain. I don't want out. This is effing Wonderland. I'm taking a bite at becoming bi.. more..