love

To The Man Who Thought He Had Me

Travel photography by Magdalena Wosinska

 

It’s just me and that man
you see such large hands
watch me sleep until the moon
drains into your pink bedroom
pretending not to be awake
with a knife in my waistband
and a vest around my neck
praying to some kind of Jesus
it won’t break under your chest
pray to some kind of something
your name brings up sour regrets
like it was my fault that you
shed your skin where it wasn’t
supposed to be shed
like it was me who asked for
you to touch me under there
like you didn’t already know
it was just me and that man
big black eyes and an accent

–

Written by Kristin Thompson

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