Coffee Spoon

constructive criticism always welcome

In the morning he hands me money

and says Do it.

He sips his coffee.

Do it.

He chews with open mouth.

Do it.

He...

Do it.

Do it.

Do it.

 

I close my eyes and see
Reflected in his dirty coffee spoon,
A little girl, distorted

in the silver red.
And I try to bend that dirty coffee spoon
So she doesn’t look broken.
But the more I bend,
The more she bends
Till her little hands
Stretch
And hold my neck
And squeeze.
I stop.
And spit out salivous moon.
Distorted in his spoon,
A little girl sat under an oak
Freezes.
She buttons up her chest with nails
And every time the nail hits the bone
And breaks it
She giggles.
Her mouth drips soil,
Even though I’ve told her
Not to eat it.
She giggles.

The earth tastes bitter.
The wind tickles
Lifting up her skirt
To stroke her.
Her eyes spooned out
And in each hole stirs
A cockroach.
She giggles.
Then she runs
In black night
With torch
In her hands
To reach a house
And peek through the window,
Lifting up her left leg
As if she saw something….
But I know
She can’t see
And cockroaches only tickle
In eyeholes.
I hear giggle.
I hear wind, and oak, and the sound

of her left leg
Lifted up in the air,
And her mouth chewing soil,
And the nail
Breaking her chest bone,
And her small hands
Stretched
To break my neck.
The wind strokes her.

 

In the morning he hands me money

and says Do it.

He sips his coffee.

Do it.

He chews with open mouth,

Do it.

He...

My feet freeze.

and coffee is bitter.

The oak is a seed.

Do it.     Not  giggle.

    

 

Reviews

[Sami Khalil]

The more I bend ,
the more she bends.
A nice concept.

[Marri]

thank you!

[Sami Khalil]

You are welcome.