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Kiss

May 27, 2013

sixtyeight

I was born and I was burning and they taught me how to read.
And I learnt a lot of things.
‘Cause I was such a clever child.
I grew up and I was yearning but they never taught me how to fight.
And I made a lot of friends.
‘Cause I was such a happy child.

I lost all of my baby teeth, spat them in the sink.
And I watched them circle the drain.
‘Cause I was such a grown up child.
Who’d read a lot of pain.
Then they knocked out all my adult teeth.
And I dropped them in my wine.
‘Cause I was such a lonely child.
Who’d drunk a lot of time.
I slept whilst spinsters wept and cried.
And I smiled an adult smile.
‘Cause I was such a cruel child.
Who’d never look you in the eye.

Summer mornings spent amongst the trees.
Hands in the dirt.
Blood on the leaves.
Summer evenings spent amongst the smoke.
Hand up her skirt.
Hidden from the beast.
Sure in the street, but never certain.
Whether she slept behind the curtain.

With all your woman’s intuition.
You realized something there was missing.
You asked about my silence.
I saw the glitter in your eye.
I won’t cry for her, I won’t cry for you.
For your gilded acts of violence.

She told me how handsome I’d become.
And how grown up I looked.
‘Cause I was such a kind young man.
We spoke of things we’d read in books.
And she slept a lot.
‘Cause she was such a broken child.
She saw a hatred, there.
That I’d built up just for you.
Took it as a martyrdom.
But I never told her the truth.
I remember the last time we kissed.
And I understood why I miss you.
That smiling, poisoned, final touch.
And I know now why it hurt so much.

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From → Poetry

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