Treasure Island

A.j. Binash

(04-20-1988 / Dodgeville WI)

Learning to Listen. Not Possible?


A virgin whispered to me.
The air of their speech
Salivated,
Combined with my ear wax.
Dripped,
Rested on my cheek
As if it were a
Tear
Motivated by menthol.

I thought it was a secret.

All day strangers commented:
“You need to wink
To make it go away.”

“I am Adam
And my ribs hurt.”
I responded.

I prayed for release.

In the morning
Headlines read
About a prominent suicide.

I went to the funeral.
The air was scented with gossip.

I tried to apologize.
But all the graves
Were decorated with flowers.

I was too distracted
By beautiful things.
To acknowledge anything else.

Submitted: Friday, April 04, 2014
Edited: Friday, April 04, 2014

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Topic(s): violence

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