As the maroon spilled across the table
she couldn’t help remember the wine
they drank that first night
and all the promises they’d made,
she couldn’t help remember the wine
they drank that first night
and all the promises they’d made,
and now what was once wine is now blood
sprayed across this linen tablecloth
sprayed across this linen tablecloth
like the aftermath of an exploded contract
ripping apart her soul.
ripping apart her soul.
ooh! It's a different style of yours, but it works so well..dig the metaphor!
ReplyDeleteJeez, Buddah, just rip my heart out and stomp on it, would ya? This really hit home. The comparison of blood and wine being real on so many levels, including religious, but in this case, the beating of the human heart. Great work, Bruddah! Amy
ReplyDeletehttp://sharplittlepencil.wordpress.com/2011/07/20/teacher-says/
PS my Captcha! is "noses," believe it or not!