he slips, falls
pale arms desperate to clutch thin air
lands face down
split lip, bloodied against sharp rock
C1, C2
cracked, severed
his footing lost quick
as his temper
//
I sit motionless at the precipice
warmed by breaking sun, stunned
these peculiar narrow thumbs
and nubby nail beds buried
inside clinched fists
//
sea pours rude as
slow rolling smog atop
his freshly battered body
perfumes his nostrils with salty, inky mist
fails to bring about consciousness
her cold wetness rushes in, cruel
blanket
breaking sharp as icicles
against his testicles
she throttles and retreats
off-white spray aspirating castoff
bubbling like congealing soft-boiled milk
she slips and sloshes over
his slumped shoulders
blinds his blank eyes
numbs with indifference
rocks the dead weight
of settling limbs
eccentric grieving
//
he is nearly
drowned
//
I watch his time wash out to sea
as the brooding sun dislodges
from its mooring
its tormented vermillion loosing vigor,
singed,
fire fizzing
into the horizon
into nothing
//
twilight blurs
as I rub tired eyes
trace echoes of threadbare clouds racing elsewhere
slinking across sublime sky
//
gingerly I scramble
up and over
slippery sea cliffs
//
shivering,
I cross the lamp-lit roadside
stroking cold metal keys
bittersweet inheritance
//
driver’s door feels foreign
against exposed skin
its handle unused to my
impossible tenderness
//
I retrieve his cell phone—battery
nearly drained—and dial
three digits
state my name,
his
//
the last of him
at last
submerged
beneath her murky,
drenching weight
and a thousand shimmering stars
***
Copyright © 10/10/2010 by Christy Munson. All rights reserved.
About the Creator
Christy Munson
My words expose what I find real and worth exploring.
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Comments (2)
Whoa. That wasn't where I was expecting this to go. Great job!
Impressive work! Well written!