Glass Faces
She gazes at the
Faces of glass as they float in the air

She fights back the laughter
Watching smiles

Faces of glass walk outside
They walk in perfect skin

She is smiling at the glass hands
As they touch her lips

Softly
Softly
The light zooms away

Her fire eyes are clutched tight and silent
She runs away from the

Smiles etched in perfect silica
Another chance

And she trashes it
And she burns a hole in a window

Peers through squinting
At another chance

The street offers nothing as she runs and ducks
Time for the clocks to burn

Watch what you’re saying
Exactly good advice that kills

Gently holding the crown of thorns

A fucking angel

Batting her eyes
She stayed in the garage
Because the signs pointed that way.

Signs do hurt so.

Her belly trembled while
Lying on a mattress
Trying to force the
Blood from the lecherous.

She batted her eyes.
Inside his skin.
Because of true love in her eyes

“fuckin’ angel,” he enunciated
“bang, bang,” she stated

A lactating moon
Slammed against the nighttime
Slid across her lips and
Was buried
In his mouth

—Poem by Peter Marra
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