Burial Poem by Ram Krishna Singh
Burial
Frazzled at the day's end
when I smell her flesh
she curses my knots
and the two decades
of living the same routine
in kitchen and bed
and nowhere else to go
in shameless convenience
I look for the blankness
she kicks my image
in the little pool of blood
and buries my sex
Wednesday, July 6, 2005
Topic(s) of this poem: sex
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8/14/2026 3:20:46 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
