Dog-eared Scar

Brown leather jacket
cradles a man
thumbing through travel guides

A page rises
a page falls
a jacket earns another crack

I raise my thumb to my lips
and there is nothing to lick off
man flips another page
I try to do the same

Trees loom over me
breaking slowly
from their grey stomachs, out
skin falling
incense stick scab
selfish lovers
and I’m pinned beneath them
quiet but for a page rising
a page falling
a breath half-haunted

A jacket cradles a man
who turns another page
but my arms are too full to do the same

Back against grass
blades and shoulder blades
green and stubborn
whispering to the trees
“She’s flipping there again–
that dog-eared scar.”

Leave a Reply

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

You are commenting using your 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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s