(15/07/56 / Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.)

Twak!

Twak!

A knife embeds itself

in the space just
by her left ear

as if the wood
gulped it...sucked it

in
its glint

vibrating still.

In her head
she plans

dinner.

She stares
at her husband

remembers how
he had come

to court her
...twak!

Another knife
flashes spitefully

narrowly missing
her other ear

a little
bubble of blood

like a stud
earring blossoming

on a wobbly
earlobe.

'Ouch! '
she whispers

to herself
guilty

at such an over
reaction

oh how he had
excited her


her head
in a spin



saying he
was in

show business


her world
revolves


about him
the next knife


impregnates itself
in the space


between her
legs


like a tuning fork
it hums


her excitement
builds


a splinter of
wood


nestles in her
left inner thigh.


'Wow...nice! '
she becomes moist.


The shimmy of her
spangles


as the lights catch
her


a little
gasp



she faces him
boldly



afraid &
un-afraid

upside down now
her world all topsy-turvy

she still so
proud of her

husband's skill
to tantalise her


his unerring
accuracy

the pride of being
(she the knife thrower's assistant)

as well
as wife.



Twak!

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Comments (1)

I love this poem. I did not know where it was going and it took me to a nice place/ safe!