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Lipstick
With others, it was different:
colorless passion; sleep; shower.
Never before these tangled sheets,
this white heat or obsession.
In the morning, you scrub away
at crimson smears on your neck,
marveling at the paleness of your skin
beneath her color.
She kisses your mirror, "So
you'll remember last night."
As if you could forget.
Blindness
As if betrayed by love, you live empty,
and are blinded, like Samson fallen.
I was no Delilah, no lover, barber, and
betrayer;
was not conniving to shave away your power.
But you deny me, believe I have cut away
the braids of your strength.
To show your masculinity,
you tear down the walls we worked to build,
and I lie crushed
beneath the temple you've destroyed.
Bronwyn E. Haynes has been published in each
of the three issues of Baby Clam Press, and
recently accepted a position on the Baby Clam
staff as co-editor. A long-time member of the
Burlington County Poets, she has also been
published in the Quick and Dirty Poet's Up and
Under Review, and received the National Council
of Teachers of English Award for excellence in
writing. Most recently, one of her poems was
recognized in the New Jersey State Teen Arts
festival. |
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