11 January 2011

The price of broken promises

‘I love you – have always loved
          you,’ he said, whispering, whispering
     into the soft pink shell of my ear.
But as the words touched the delicate drum
               they shattered into a thousand tiny
          fragments of glass and tickled and cut
     at the soft flesh against which they rubbed.
So I tilted my head, questioningly
               at him.  And as my head tilted
         broken promises came tumbling
     out of my ear, silvery and shining
red with blood.

10/01/2011

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