rake Joseph Pinto, the barflypoet

‘rake’

 

it’s the way she collects me when i’ve fallen. those choke me till i’m just short of life eyes. against cool pane her cheek by my hand. pressing against her senses until she’s starry and that pride stripped to her ankles. she’ll submit the way she took me by her teeth. i can’t zip up without flinching. we know our love’s a farce and i’ll be sure she won’t leave without a scar of her own. seasons are changing yet we find wholeness in our broken. hiding my veins still she squeezes my pulse between fingers. it’s the way she pulls my chords and strokes me with that longing song of hers. like it’s okay to give her all i’ve collected now that the sun has traveled down. and down she goes unapologetically. i try to tell her there’s a lot built up where i’ve fallen but she’s eager to clean up without gloves. 

  

rake:

an implement equipped with 

projecting prongs to gather

material (such as leaves) or

for loosening or smoothing 

the surface of the ground



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#barflypoet

#josephapinto

© Joseph A. Pinto

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Poetry served raw and unedited from the moment crafted

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'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.

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