by Holly Day
The girl on the stage winks at you
opens her blouse
and rips out her heart.
It beats frantically at your feet.
You ignore it.
The girl on the stage
begins her song.
It’s an old love song,
your song,
when the two of you were together.
Unfair of her
to dredge up your past
in front of so many people.
But the song drives you crazy.
You promise her anything
and throw her a tissue
which she stuffs in the hole
in her chest
where it blooms
blood coursing through its paper veins
like a carnation
in a buttonhole
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2010
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June
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