Tag Archives: Berceause

BERCEUSE – Paul Dyer

Spinning a
tawdry promise
about the fingers
in skeins of
languid doom
is a different matter
from settling all scores,
brushing your teeth
for the last time
and doing the dishes
so you’ll go out clean.

You count off the minutes
till the predetermined hour,
enjoying the pulse of time
as never before.

And then the blade
across each wrist in turn,
slicing casually,
like stripping off
a watchstrap,

knowing that because
you wrote about it
somewhere
it had always already
begun.

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Filed under Poetry