Incendiary Poem by Charles Malcolm
Incendiary
She tastes like fruit punch
and gasoline
and doesn't stare
obnoxiously
at these vermilion burns
with surprise.
I find myself
chewing tinfoil and match heads
as she speaks.
When she stops
I crush cigarettes in my palm
and smile down
at the raining embers.
They remind me of her
as they kiss the concrete
and disappear.
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: pain,love
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4/26/2024 10:58:34 AM # 1.0.0.1119
