Day 5, Well Runs Dry

She was thinking how good he would look
in black-and-white;
his face losing all definition,
milked-out of the darkness

the bones beneath his skin without contours,
without limits.


and he was thinking
how sulky her natural expression is,
chewing on her lip like a
piece of meat

the skin around her eyes like the sleeve of a coat,
a rag dragged out of the gutter and slapped on a pole.