Staccato words

A burn trails my lips to you
a kiss a song to flutter with wings
a boy running running from terror
bullets buzzing bees sting bleeding

We telling those lies
my mother washing the blood
beneath the tap her hair
framing her eyes her tears
communing with the dust motes
rising as if she is beating a body
wake up wake up the sun is up

A country in my skin naked
before you a soft press of lips
gentle touch fornicate say sin
but I am a flower petals open
hands twigs stretched towards
pages of clouds unrolling
from the sky to stand by my side
your side any side

My father tears his hair
& wears it back white as
dandruff oiled smile painted
with palettes of pale hues,
cowry creaking on a dust ruined
porch clam shells & the sea
retreating like a broken heart
stealing into the night

My mother dries her hands
& smokes the radio blades
the incision deep beneath my chest
removes me from inside me &
my song is hoarse a raucous cry
& then I lie shapeless like
a cloth waiting to wipe the
flood when the soft clouds melt
into a deluge of staccato gunfire

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_{pixabay:Myriam-photos}

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©warpedpoetic,January,2020.