a black forsythia
branch exploding
under her skin,
pressing leaves
against her
wrists, her
belly. Licorice
petals drift to
her eyes, burn
like the flames
a knife slices
that eats the dead
animal’s blood
by Lyn Lifshin
*Lyn's website:
http://www.lynlifshin.com/books.htm
June 20, 2009
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