13 degrees

skim of sweat.
blackbird on a black line,
line on wall
facade for a crack.
13 degrees,
she required
no wrap in a listless
she, lack of urgency,
lay on a wall top
glass scanning bed 
scans her
prints the truth.
no shoe soles, crystallizes
a thought into a poem
but throws away the ink,
throws away the
avalanche of gray clouds,
she digs out to 
waste a day
seeks more numbness 
in an alcohol
ordinary sensations,
washes dirty dishes by hand,
in a pot on an old stove,
boils up some
her ex scrapes off his life onto
old automobiles,
pushes them into a bottomless
they sink like apologies in 
a cold sea.
station wagon backs up on 
a highway
she climbs in with her blackbird,
her once husband puts his
hand between
her satin legs,
she surrenders her desire,
degrading need
but still
hungry for each other.
“I saw this beautiful woman
on a wall…”
Copyright © 05/16/2013 Ðark Ṝoasted Ƣoetry®

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