Glass shatters across the wooden floor.
Tip-toe between the shards.
One less wine glass. . . . Soon we'll have none.
Red liquid seeping amongst the cracks - the wood bleeds.
One uncertain step. Red flows from my foot. Another scar to remember.
Discarded wax sheets strewn on the ground.
Tip-toe between the strips.
Black, brown, blond - all ripped from the source.
Some refuse to move; Grasping to the skin.
Bruises appear on the surface and Itchy red splotches begin to show.
One quick pull. Red stems up my leg. Another rash to scratch.
Friday, November 10, 2006
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1 comment:
sounds like you were waxing your legs brenda! Ouch! I've had a brazilian, I can sympathize. For real. One more wine glass bites the dust, eh? Ikea has cheap ones.
I like the use of colours in your text. Its effective.
Ciao for now bdog!
Ming.
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