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Her Period
February 2, 2016
Slipping velvetine,
The childless mother upon me,
Swayed like a winter tree.
Moonshine,
In no time,
My head cooking in brine.
Silken liar,
Pants beating each other in the dryer,
Grieving a fallen paper air flyer.
Ironed massacre,
I can't hear her,
Stomach churn.
© Chris C., Milford, CT
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Inspired again by Plath's "Winter Plath" and The Doors song "Angels And Sailors" (2:30)