Friday, May 30, 2008

Late Commute (American Sonnet)

She has stretch mark spidering across her upper arm
and shoulder

Tattooed over top of these marks:
‘The Truth’

I am fascinated by her
I wonder about the night she chose those words
and does it mean the same thing to her
as it did back then

it’s two stops before I realize that she isn’t out of breath at all
but quietly crying

tears streaking down her face
from beneath her oversized sunglasses

I wonder where she’s going
And where she’s been

2 comments:

Winter said...

Beautiful but gross.

katrocket said...

a great sonnet - very touching...