i wish to
shed this skin
of pain
of discontent
like a clinging, wrinkled
dress
crumpled
rolled around in
and pulled—
s c r a p e d
o f f
w
i
g
g
l
e
d
out of
twisted
at my ankles
and dropped
like my
eyelids—
to drool into
the hair
of your chest
the pads
of your fingers
in that place
in the groove
of my back
hearing
no voices
and feeling
only
the breath
of your hungry mouth
satisfied
Copyright 2013 Jennifer Wagner
I'll be linking to dVerse with the amazing poets who gather there for OpenLinkNight.