Mosquito Mask

She slips on her mosquito mask
before we go out, feeling every
needle sink into her skin.

I try to ignore the redness,
her pain caused by ennui, staring
at the ficus in the restaurant

or at the couples talking into
their pasta. Love has been relegated
to a couple of body movements

made secretly under the table.
And then when we get home,
she takes it off and I get to taste

its poison, drinking it slowly to feel
her still writhing in my arms.




Poetry by Christian Ward
Read 1072 times
Written on 2006-12-13 at 23:21

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BlueyedSoul
Yikes, now there's a new drink for ya! Creative for sure.
~Blue
2007-01-01


Esti D-G
Happy 2007 Chris!

Loved this completely. You captured the mood of dying love and the feelings we all get when reality kicks in, the magic evaporates and we're left with nothing left to say and nothing more to dream.
Good on yer mate! luv'n'some estixxxxxxxxxx
2006-12-29


Kathy Lockhart
emotions, scenes, glimpses of life, secrets whispered in poetry. Your style is yours alone. I count myself fortunate to experience it here.
2006-12-14


Sandy Hiss
Wow! This is so different....amazing. I love the imagery here Chris.
2006-12-14