English poetry

Poems in English

The Friend

We sat across the table.
He said, cut off your hands.
They are always poking at things.
They might touch me.
I said yes.

Food grew cold on the table.
He said, burn your body.
It is not clean and smells like sex.
It rubs my mind sore.
I said yes.

I love you, I said.
That’s very nice, he said
I like to be loved,
That makes me happy.
Have you cut off your hands yet?

1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

Poem The Friend - Marge Piercy