Curves

Curves

 

There were so many

curves

to her body;

clay and mud and straw.

 

She danced

at noon,

and felt the pain

in her back

by midnight.

 

The knots of

the wood floor,

she nicknamed

in earnest,

Johnny, Sam, and Georgy boy.

 

They changed

as the days went by,

and the clients came

less frequently.

 

Except one.

 

He was particularly eager,

to put lilies in her hair.

 

As the blur of her life

was finally wiped away.

 

Without afterthought.

 

Strange;

an absurd exit

for such a talented artist.

 

And she was twirling her hair

when she tasted the blood.

Reviews

[Steve]

TAsted the blood.....whoa. I wasn't expecting that!

[KatiePie]

I actually really like this, the imagery is pretty great, and I enjoyed reading it.
Great write ^-^
-Cathrine