Coffin Skin Poem by Laura Russell
Coffin Skin
My sword drips ink onto pages
like blood from a fresh wound
Cascading in cyclones
over virgin white and English rose,
Hands and lips dip like nibs
into indigo realms
and the highest heights of handicap.
Spilling liquid black
like suicide blood
onto winter coloured notebooks and
coffin skin.
23rd March 2005
Friday, February 17, 2006
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4/25/2024 6:29:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
