Empire Falls

She’s a loaded gun fingers flexing on the trigger she’s the 3 am gritty-eyed one last line

before oblivion turning and turning in the darkness knotting of sweat-sogged sheets she’s

a winding shroud of whiskey that coats the breath she’s the paisley smoke that halos

auburn hair she’s teeth that grind an empty room a burning fuse and sweeping slants

of black tracks down pale skin she’s a desiccated womb a silhouette a sway before a broken

mirror she’s bloodmist and milky bone she’s a fire sparked its flickering blue notes singing

deep beneath the temples she’s a trajectory complete she’s the vulture winging overhead

the string of broken pediments. Her aftermath, a ringing, meets the day

Copyright JP Reese, 2012: First published in Blue Fifth Review: Blue Five Notebook: http://bluefifthreview.wordpress.com/2012/01/15/blue-five-notebook-january-2012-12-1/#comment-525

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