26 Dec Alex McGill
TENDER
beet stained finger tips
counter a murder scene
bathed in golden hour glow
light tickles my bare back
as I concentrate on
slicing
precise halves, quarters
surgical, methodical
compartmentalization
is easy
I wipe sticky sweet juice
off my hands
dyed pink
like sunset kissed sky
A PEACH
blood blossoming
beneath pale calf skin
a direct impact
a vivid violet
an almost beauty
I bruise easily
a peach
my legs fuzzy
and glimmering
white blonde in the light
too many nights
drinking too much wine
letting him kiss me
gently
bike resting against hip
I just want to be touched
so badly
Alex McGill is a writer living in Toronto. She recently published her first short poetry collection, Vespertine, and is an editor of the soon-to-launch publication and social club Feels Mag.