Poetry Archives Bio
November 9, 2004
5:29 AM
Breath

she stares at the barrel
many surfaces
one purpose

like taking a bandage
off a wound
to let it aerate

she feels its warm flesh
with her tongue
tastes disintegration

she puts it in her mouth
and waits
it goes off on its own

like so many things
like an overextended metaphor
she falls to the floor

but there is one extra shot
left