Black curtains, black towels, black sheets, black pillows, black rugs, black jeans, black shirts, black hair, black glasses, black scabs on bruised black veins. Black eyes, black outs, black coffee, black forest cake.
Under the Big Black Sun:
i built a shrine on the kitchen wall
with flowers and florida souvenirs
you were walking through the house last night
i knew it was you from the space in your steps
Her sister said, "She comes in here with all that long blond hair, and they give her free food..."
© 2002-2017 Mark Phillips.
All rights reserved.
This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.
"Blogging as Cubism" explains.
Published 1/04: Big Bridge.
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