Acupuncture By Charlotte Reed - Get a Free Blog

You told me stories.
We pretended, and you were the captain
of submarines in your bed.
We saw fi sh in the contours
and colors of the quilt we propped
up over our heads—drift ing,
sapphires and rubies
in our dark sea. Th ere,
the black played with your jaw,
and your beard was only
shadows. I knew you’d
warn me about sharks
in the distance.
Inside your offi ce on Sunset
that smelled like ginger
and hardwood fl oors,
there was the mannequin
in the window, painted white
with the blood-blue
and red veins stretched, spreading nerves,
like city streets, subway maps.
With your fi nger,
you traced the ones
that lead to the heart.
magus ~ 62 ~ mabus