Surgery
Our suckled wants
lay exposed on metal,
where surgeons’ tools
reveal their bleeding truth
Synthetic light
glares upon open breasts
Her ersatz smile,
pierced by love’s incision
Through stagnant days
I see you watching and
waiting for my fear
to end this surgery.
Your skin I cut through while
I search for proof.
Will I dig deep
enough to find your heart?
lux’s newsletter
Drop your email to receive articles, stories, book reviews, and random musings by Ty Crisp. May include the occasional poem. Buy me a coffee if it strikes your fancy! Thank you humbly for the support. ☺️
Leave a Reply