Saturday, January 10, 2015

pineapple

I became disheartened
then I took to my poems, said
dole it out, the core of the pineapple
acidic is my heart, here

sometimes feeling a great bag
hanging in the air
in front of my face
when I turn to breathe

as food gets cold
the door shuts after my sister
the redness fades from me
when I hear her cough