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i wanted to write sincerely about prostitution
i am this letter you carefully open.
sometimes in it a picture of
your wife; carefully embalmed in seclusion.
the deliberate way you define her. the antithesis
of my hands; the transcendence of emotion.
you seal me in a careless manner, gluttonous
tongue salivating. press the lip of me gently, pick
at the edges that cease to close.
i am this letter no one is reading.
To Define This
I waited for your definition of
nothingness; the thick articulation
of the intangible. For a moment
time was succinct; a brief undulation
of breath.
Motion waved like crest of tide;
the thin proximity of your lips.
The cool pressure
of night resided tenderly upon
my breast.
Like a flower this world is
triumphantly opening. This garden
in which we are planted; the sadistic
burial of limbs. Casually we hold each other;
emerge from earth as a creation.
I am never beautiful; the sun eludes me. Shadows
come unto my character, seep into aspects
of being. I seek to tell you nothing; to define
the silence between us. To tell you what color is
underneath the skirt of night.
Meghan Smith is currently a third year social work student and a mother of a 6 month old baby girl. She
has been pubished in a few journals and internet periodicals such as Ascent, Re:verse and Pandora’s
Collective under her maiden name Meghan Johnston. She enjoys writing about relationships, nature
and her experiences traveling around British Columbia.
Email: Meghan Smith
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