LSSmith

Patches of peach-white crash into coffee stains

On the hands and face

Bleach peppered band tees form a net for the 

Mittens who have held so many ripe fruits  

And rotten babies, mostly boys

Green stalks bend showing reverence as she 

Saunters by, eyes glittering with knowing

They don’t tell her much-her face is a billboard

Of petals falling over with worry for hearts 

Sipping from the lakes of the cruel clouds

The solitary girl she has is shiny and her 

Light attracts the wayward bugs with bellies

Full of deceit dressed up in their brand of 

Love they fill her womb with lies and babies 

That decide not to come down I can’t say 

I blame them who wants a mother foolish

Enough to gorge on promises everyone knows 

How the tongues of man work they flip around

Coating the ear with sounds that taste like 

Opportunity, yet run down like spilled yolks 

When it is time to pay the mother waits by 

The television for shrill ringing of the phone 

Her glass heart listens to another call

Seems there are more children born 

that she can’t Hold It seems that 

Kristallnacht is on a Continuous loop

They take everything she has and 

Each day she is left to rebuild 

Parasites from conception.