VINYL POETRY

Volume 8, August 2013

BIRDIE
Robert KrutView Contributor’s Note

Tattoo

The only words worth saying
need to be spoken
so you feel my mouth on your ear.

Come closer.
I didn’t realize when touching you
that my fingerprints each hid a face.

Pulling my hand away,
I have left a tattoo
of their demon mouths

on your bare arm,
and on my fingers,
no prints but tear-shaped moons.