Home > Poetry > when it’s all too clean

when it’s all too clean

I have been hiding the bodies
for years; no one bothers
to come looking. No one asks questions.
No one digs. There are no dogs
searching and sniffing. There is no
crime scene tape, no gloved hands,
and no one to witness
the newly disturbed earth.
bleach will whiten a smile
as well as a moment. Consider it
handled.

And yet, I wait for the ghosts to come,
but they do not. I open my eyes
in the middle of the night, but find
nothing. I do not know
what I expect of the dead.
I offer them coins, anyway.
I offer my own voice,
the pin pulled from a grenade,
a heart beating without a single sound.

I dance with the pin in my teeth,
tequila in my smile; my dress (stolen),
my confession
starting where hip meets thigh,
not a diamond, but a staggering belief
of what things mean, of being
thick as thieves, hiding the evidence
with the pick of a lock, the turn of a key,
and finding that there is no door.

eventually, all things
are dug up. All promises collected,
all kisses are taken or given,
all clothing is lost
as love is found. I know
what happens here,
I know what I am willing to give up,
and it’s alright, darling –
I already have the handcuffs.

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Categories: Poetry
  1. November 20, 2012 at 12:19 pm

    Clap-clap-clap-clap (wishing I could insert the sound of applause here).

  2. Jessica
    November 20, 2012 at 1:03 pm

    Oh you’re so fantastic…

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