Tuesday, August 7, 2012


artwork: dee sunshine


by Dee Sunshine

I wet my finger,
trace a line through plaster dust:
expose the raw, rust-encrusted metal.

Metal and plaster taste in my mouth. 
Yin to yang -
plaster submits to metal,
implodes to its shiny touch. 

Where once there was sculpture,
now there are only lumps and dust.

Metal and plaster -
the taste is tart, wry and sexual,
filling me with its corroded essence.

Tonight I want her very much.

~ previously published in Visions of the Drowning Man