Blood
At the first Blow
The Impact
Unnoticed until
Ears ringing
The soft Thud of
The first droplet
Crash-landing on the carpet
Punctuation means an Ending
But I love
The Taste
Sea Salt and
Metallic Earth and
Electricity
The willful Conduit, I
Ache for more, I
Fall further, I
Break Apart, I
Have a Headache and
Only One good eye
But I love
The Pain
Of cracking Open, of
Peeling back the Flesh, of
Cutting away the
Necroses, it’s
Surgery in Wartime: Tragic but
Necessary and besides
To anesthetize would defeat the purpose
And I love
Creating spaces for
The next Occupation
And I love
The Nostalgia of
Going back
To where I was a long time
And I love
Love
Like I love
A good Paradox and
Other Things that don’t
Make any Sense
I love
Love
Like I love
A good Horror film, I’m
Paying for my Heart to Hammer
The inside of my rib cage
I love
Love
Like I love
A good Bad Habit like
Spending time in the Sun or
Fucking all the Wrong People
I love
Love
Like I love
A good Hurricane, it’s
Tumultuous and
Volatile and
There’s Risk of Drowning, but
There’s Sanctity in its
Power, in its
Trenchancy, in its
Unapologetic Crusade
And Afterwards
The trees have been Washed
Of Dead Branches
I am left
Shattered in its Wake
Disembodied and
Disillusioned, Maybe.
Still, I Love
Copyright ©2019 by Angie Tonucci. All rights reserved.