The Descendant

Anna Frances Conway, Contributor. 

 

The bone structure

the eyes like cotton balls

the nose like the ace of spades

one tear cascades and I don’t

know how to catch it.

 

It’s not mine; I can’t pull the

think back into her pink socket

the little darling thing, taut as a spring

can barely tie her shoe, one step closer

to the black tasting blue

 

Not quite made of me, not quite

made of you, arms like

dandelion flaps pull up and

down

 

One snap,

two,

green pools in white specks

dance and catch on you

and children don’t take well to glue

 

My body convulses like a dying animal

trying to reach you

 

You’ve turned blue in the fleshy hills,

so your scalp holds daffodils.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s