Poetry/Creative non-fiction/fiction

Moonlight March 7, 2012

Filed under: Poetry — jessicacolleenmcdermott @ 4:57 pm
Tags: , , , ,


I never saw you touch the lawyer or the

baker’s wife. Never saw you look at them

with eyes that pet and plead.  But five days

before your anniversary,


when Lilly’s hands sunk a bullet into her spine

that stuck until the day she died, did you feel

it too? The lead like bleeding ink in a constant

pinch down to her feet.  The twist


of something lodged so deep in bone and flesh

that it grows invisible to all but you. Because you still

feel it breathe. You’ve tasted its smoothness on sleepless


nights with lovers that coo and touch but never give

birth to something that lasts. But leave. Like


sunlight on your face. A moment of warmth that

escapes.  The holy moment when skin meets skin

and you, the feeler,  feels what it means to ache for

someone else.  To grasp onto a climax that can’t be

spoken, only sensed in the space of a blink.


When the moonlight disappears into sun and you

alone lock your door up tight. So no one can squeeze

between the spaces, and you don’t speak or leave just

sit and stare. I can feel your loneliness. The self-inflicting

shots of lead meant to leave holes through chests and weight

onto backs that doesn’t end but stays.

And lasts.


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