If I could claw
the words out of
the back
of my throat and give them,
dripping of me, to you,
we would talk of sticky hands,
and the messes they make.
©Nicole Lyons 2016
Hush
If I could claw
the words out of
the back
of my throat and give them,
dripping of me, to you,
we would talk of sticky hands,
and the messes they make.
©Nicole Lyons 2016
the maiden, mother and caffeinated crone
Poetry and prose by Basilike Pappa
a division of Blank Paper Press
collective of indie-published writers & readers who want to discover them
“Sticky hands” — First thought is of chocolate the way toddlers eat it, all on hands and faces. — a darker thought of the stickiness of blood. —
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Nicole– this is gorgeously visceral. Perfectly suits my mood tonight.
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I can’t love this comment enough. Thank you.
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Your writing usually leaves me in awe. Thank you!
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
What kind of sticky?
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Thank you, my friend.
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“we would talk of sticky hands,
and the messes they make.”
Stunned. Nicole is in a class of her own.
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You humble me. Thank you.
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Reblogged this on Secret First Draft and commented:
This is a masterpiece!
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Thank you.
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Damn girl
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That was awesome. That was awesome.
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Thank you so much. Kind of fangirling right now over this comment.
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love
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