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