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Poetry
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| Eros Corsicana | |
| By andybyers | ||||||||
| 06 August 2007 | ||||||||
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Sat on a curb at the edge of the street
Sat on a street at the edge of the summer All freckles and eloquence, She took a deep breath And in her hands held out her heart to me "I love you," she whispered I plunged the dagger with every barking laugh It was years before I understood My heart was Corsican twin to hers When I saw the boy who didn't laugh And felt the stabbing pains of wounds Unsuspected Ancient Self-inflicted.
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