Friday, April 15, 2011

The Night It Ends

Your boozy,
bottle-shattered eyes
take in the swirl
of her leaving.
Lilac hangs in the air
like a perfumed shroud.
It’s someone’s funeral
yet she’s wearing pearls and a party dress.
If I had any guts,
I’d step off this couch
and make her take me with.

--Len Kuntz is a writer from Washington State.  His work appears widely in print and online at such places as Moon Milk Review, Fix It Broken, Pure Slush and also at lenkuntz.blogspot.com.

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