SALT

she
was the bitch, you're the
crook
blood
in your pathetic
look
sweat
binds the pages of your
book
palms
inside the lies you
took
fish
twisted on your rusted
hook
wasted
on the salt you
cook

hands
bleed your impotent
erection
whispers
begging for any
direction
doctors
look for an easy
correction
women
vote against your sorry
election
girls
seated in your
section
laughter
for your sad
projection.

2-15-97

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©Denise Angela Celeste