This night of sanguine hips


This night of sanguine hips
when blinded by the bleach of sun
we shed our last maracas tears

Mascara rolling down her cheek
forgets impending doom of dawn

Dancing in the graveyard dust
burning on her bloodfilled lips
the blessing of the shrouds of light
this night of sanguine hips

6 feet under, worms are waiting
for our corazon of moonlit nights

She sways and zips her eyelids shut
and forgets this dreaded parking lot
this night of sanguine hips

Photograph by Marco Bolognesi

Photograph by Marco Bolognesi


Today at Real Toads Marion wants us to write to the music of David Hildago

September 5, 2014

14 responses to “This night of sanguine hips

  1. Sounds like a bad ending to the sanguine hipped lady’s moonlight night escapade. This writing makes us feel sorry for her.

  2. A new favorite–so many great lines and near homonyms==they work so well, and describe so well this near missing, this wishing for something to have that imagined passion–of course it does have a passion. Wonderful sounds. k.

  3. Blows my mind in words, though the illustration makes me cring–so many uses of women! But well may we try all the masks to woo life, to live on that last night, and then zip our eyelids shut.

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