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
collective of indie-published writers & readers who want to discover them
I'll write as long as my lines live
“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. —
LikeLiked by 1 person
Nicole– this is gorgeously visceral. Perfectly suits my mood tonight.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I can’t love this comment enough. Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your writing usually leaves me in awe. Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
What kind of sticky?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, my friend.
LikeLiked by 1 person
“we would talk of sticky hands,
and the messes they make.”
Stunned. Nicole is in a class of her own.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You humble me. Thank you.
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Secret First Draft and commented:
This is a masterpiece!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLike
Damn girl
LikeLiked by 1 person
That was awesome. That was awesome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much. Kind of fangirling right now over this comment.
LikeLike
love
LikeLiked by 1 person