December 18, 2017

Poetry: “Lacunae”

Tongues slip wet wishes
Across ticklish tenderloins.
Teeth drive daggers
Into maiden-skin,
Releasing the rushing aftermath
Of sucked-in screams —
Squirting out curses crossed
Through county lines —
Shifting the growing weight
Of sequestered silence.

As dialogue sputters to a ceasefire,
Hearts grow bolder,
Testing boundaries
Through subversive bungee jumps.
Empowered by entitled reach,
Questions of submission
Dominate the scale-tip towards
Leaving lacunae between flashbacks;
Deciding how to keep what’s past
From wanting.


© Jane Bled 2016-2017
All Rights Reserved.

How green was her valley © Jane Bled