The Piercing

nose

My baby had the cutest little nose –
Unsuffocatable that button was
like every other infant’s; heaven knows
design for life, so heaven perfect does.

And as she grew, it stayed adorable –
She seemed to train it upward with her hand
by palming it whenever it felt full,
as if its adult shape were baby-planned.

I recollect a day in childhood
she stuck a raisin up that little nose.
But what impelled her now, what artful good
did she obtain from piercing it? What shows
from her decision, the only thing she got,
is ornament resembling silver snot.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s