Friday, 2 October 2009

A Chance Encounter






Photobucket 

When I met you first it was on the dissecting table. You, glarish behind the mask - me naked on the table. Your scalpel slit me, spilling red flowers. Now interred within the earth I think of you, of other bodies that you had, because bodies rot but memories never do.
Posted by

4 comments:

I need to moderate comments to reduce spam, so they mightn't appear instantly.. thanks so much for leaving a message :)

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)