Breadcrumb #558

TIM MCGINNIS

burnt honesty
hurt her trembling fingers,
and
she stuck them in her mouth.

here her tongue found the food
her hunger wanted;
here her teeth left staggered hints
of force on ripe dates, red dates

her mouth could not pluck from the palm.
the hole wore on.
she lay back
on the sheets, the overhead spinning

and she felt her hand slip out,
wet and hot with the slap of his face.
she slammed the door, over again
and over again [again again again

again] in memory, gingerly
holding her fingertips
to dry
in the air.

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