Articulated

The paper dolls
you assembled, then hid
so well. The accordion
bus before the band

destroyed it.
The skeleton you
read about, never
found. The vestibule

car where I waited for you
to return. The last words
you might have uttered—
with only the slightest

hint of fresh ginger
on your tongue.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s