We sat across the table.
he said, cut off your hands.
they are always poking at things.
they might touch me.
I said yes.
Food grew cold on the table.
he said, burn your body.
it is not clean and smells like sex.
it rubs my mind sore.
I said yes.
I love you, I said.
That’s very nice, he said
I like to be loved,
that makes me happy.
Have you cut off your hands yet?
End of the poem
15 random poems
- I Will by Vishü Rita Krocha
- Twins by Vinko Kalinić
- October Journey by Margaret Walker
- Эмиль Верхарн – Холод
- The Keys of Morning by Walter de la Mare
- On the Same poem – John Milton poems
- Жан де Лафонтен – Утопленница
- Sonnet 36: Let me confess that we two must be twain by William Shakespeare
- A Nativity by Rudyard Kipling
- Владимир Маяковский – Товарищ Иванов
- Meäry’s Smile by William Barnes
- Idylls of the King: The Marriage of Geraint poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- It is a Show by Rixa White
- Владислав Ходасевич – Нет, не шотландской королевой
- Robert Burns: Death And Dying Words Of Poor Mailie, The Author’s Only Pet Yowe., The. An Unco Mournfu’ Tale:
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
