splattered

for her, there were his hands…

for her, there were his hands

always moving
making or fixing
caressing or 
filling her with desire

their lives a painting
with his portions
done with those fingers

colors of passion
aggravation and regret
splattering, smearing
constantly
everything

he left his life
splattered
all over her

then



he left his life

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

11 thoughts on “splattered”

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