ArtSpace: Poetry
Sarah Jean Bresnahan, a senior journalism major
Issue date: 4/3/09 Section: The Verge
A pin
stuck between my
third and fourth rib
on my left side,
(your right).
A hissing
escapes,
the sound of my
desire
mixing with the
air.
I am
shriveled.
This is a
hole
that only
time and distance
can repair,
a patch made from
the skin of
new promises,
although rubber,
(but it looks like the real thing!)
will never completely cover
this gaping,
disgusting,
vile,
stinking
mess
of the remnants.
stuck between my
third and fourth rib
on my left side,
(your right).
A hissing
escapes,
the sound of my
desire
mixing with the
air.
I am
shriveled.
This is a
hole
that only
time and distance
can repair,
a patch made from
the skin of
new promises,
although rubber,
(but it looks like the real thing!)
will never completely cover
this gaping,
disgusting,
vile,
stinking
mess
of the remnants.
Spring Break



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