Bruise

She bruises easily
She cries suddenly for no reason
No reason that any other need see
Her cheek rests on the cool of the kitchen table
Anything else would be too much effort

She falls down stairs frequently
She hides her secrets in cisterns
Knives hold an unhealthy fascination for her
Blades and bottles, blood and bourbon
Draining, draining the beauty away

She headbutts his fists for fun
She needs to be taught a lesson
Perverted by language and by love
The sex is great but the rest is just a
Lonely fucking walk to the edge

Russell J Turner – June 2011