Wax

by Robert Beveridge

The heat of the melted wax
draws the splinters from your hands.
You had been holding the shaft
of the hammer when it slid.
The little knives went deep,
broke off. I dripped
gloves of wax
over your hands
and the splinters rose.

It was what you needed,
you said, and the wax on me
sank in, nestled itself
around my heart, drew out
the thorns.


Robert “Goat” Beveridge makes noise (xterminal.bandcamp.com) and writes poetry in Akron, OH. Recent/upcoming appearances in The Nixes Mate Review, Violet Rising, and The Road Less Travelled, among others.

One thought on “Wax

  1. Really impressive piece of writing. I can find strength and talent in the words and letters that you used. This is really a good! You are amazing. Hey, I am Ragazza, I hope you could follow my blog page if you don’t mind. Cheers! 🙂

    Like

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