She's run out of things to live for.
Teacups and shoes,
a hint of collarbone
through his shirt.
All day, the taste of longing
in her mouth.
Waiting for him to pass,
to giggle hot like a schoolgirl.
By midnight, the world's diminished
to lights caressing the tollway.
Signposts that sing of a desperate paradise,
his cologne scraping the car's interior.
How she yearns in places
her body cannot reach.
Desire crackling the dash,
slicing the night like a scar.
The skyline sutured and frayed,
his textbook she drowned at the lake.
How every moon on a bracelet
corresponds with a bruise.
About the Creator
Toni Scales
Insta: toni_scales2
Hi, I'm Toni. I'm a published poet and have ten years' experience in ghostwriting erotic romance novels. My longest employment was in funeral service.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.