A Tiny And Colorful Literary Journal

Nicole Monaghan, 11/21/11


Homage to a lost love–the wrong one.  His lips on her bare shoulders, saying they tasted like cream.   New love’s mouth now, tasting wounds.



She said that’s what I want:  slate truly clean.  Never having been mistaken, pain inflicted and doled out, never having painted wrong, scars like colors.  


Nicole Monaghan is a writer and editor.  Find out more about her and her work here:  http://writenic.wordpress.com/about

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