Aug 15, 2010 18:31
i am carving a line, a sweet red line, a scallop of flesh.
it drifts across rivers, it threads between mountains,
it ruptures the earth to expose the sweet magma.
this earth is the landscape of your soul,
and i am threading my knife
in between your breasts, your hips
and the webs of your fingers.
the sweet red line winds down, til between your thighs
i wet the bed with your blood. i am feeling for bone.
martin