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Colleen Teitgen

WHAT REMAINS

Your tainted words swirl
in arabesques across my clavicle
             down my abdomen

Your frustration rubs me raw
Iím left with the erased remains
             of longing.
                           Heat.

The arch of my back lies
in a jumbled heap of mistakes

I find traces of your answers
             scaling their way up my calf
roped around my knee

Iím held captive in your yesterday
cracked and torn

Dried up now.

Nothing left.

 

 

Colleen Teitgen Colleen Teitgen
Colleen Teitgen


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