Girl on a train

For the second-hand love of this
Black eyed dancer, angled across
The shaking seat
Inches from me, I would snipsnap
Shatter these splintered feet of mine –
Doublecrack them back
The way they were cast
All those years ago, and still
Unable to stand.

Painted eyes and
Ankle chains and
Scented ribbons.
A tented surfeit
Of sensory pains
Your fresh-lip harem
Sits and drops, my face
Holds date-sticky impotence.

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About Benjamin Norris

Published writer of short stories, long stories, poems. Well received art critic and cultural commentator for Berlin magazines. Collaborator with operatic societies. Co-writer of fictional historic psycholinguistic journals. Lecturer of architecture and art history at a Budapest University. View all posts by Benjamin Norris

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