Sunday, April 3, 2016

Tricia Marcella Cimera- Two Poems


It hits me hard
like a fist.
How you walk away
after you say goodbye.
your step is quick and light,
your feet rise
above the ground.
You lift towards the sky that
turns radiant blue
as you look up and smile.
objects begin to drop
through the air,
from your turned-out pockets:
Some of my teeth
tipped with flecks
of your skin/
A smooth fat stone I polished
nightly, my love;
a paperweight
to hold you
My fingernails; they always
grow back/
And a blood-colored
beating thing
the size of a fist
that screams out
as it
at my feet.
shhhhhh listen/
poetry wants      
yr damn soul
to un shutter/
then shatter/
now shudder/
hush up &
shake ‘man shake

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