Brink
by Joanne Marisa Leow
Having tasted the first moment
I find myself wary
of sucking the honey of your
sweet vows.
(What marks of violence
you leave on my soul
A bruise here
A bite there
A gash running down my back...)
I stand here
with a broken flower stem
afraid that this ambrosia
will turn into poison running through my veins.
|