Mangos, by Carrie Close
Posted on October 1, 2019
Body limp–
blood
splattered
all over walls
tastes like mangos
how badly
you wanted
what I couldn’t
give to you– moaning
into the pillow
hands on hips
mouth sucking
thoughts and fears– expanding
standing over
your
mangled
corpse
holding a fork
fucking
you
as if
you were still breathing
but–
I like this better now
all the smoke
dissipated
exhale, relief whisper
I love you
it all floods back
the sweet sound
of your cries as you beg
297
bloody little holes
where the fork
punctured
your skin
like a mother
to her baby
I lean over your body
and coo
your beautiful
warm
wet
pussy
will dry
up
and what use
will you be to me then
what use love
will you be to me then?
*
The Sixty-Four, best poets of 2018
*Third Place Poet ~ Carrie Close*
Carrie Close, our third place poet, was born and raised in central Maine, where she is currently attending the University of Maine at Farmington for Creative Writing and French. After graduating she hopes to work as a teacher’s assistant at a French university, before returning to the states to pursue an M.F.A in Creative Writing. She has previously been published in KYSO Flash, The Halcyone Literary Review, and Miracle Monocle.