Break | Robin Robertson
Washing glasses in the sink
and the first thing she knew was this
dull click, like a tongue,
under the soap-suds.
The foam pinked.
Now she could see blood
smoking from the flap of skin,
and it was over, clearly,
out in the open:
holding water, feeling nothing.
and the first thing she knew was this
dull click, like a tongue,
under the soap-suds.
The foam pinked.
Now she could see blood
smoking from the flap of skin,
and it was over, clearly,
out in the open:
holding water, feeling nothing.