Poetry

Uncovering your breasts 
and waist, 
you become half-eaten. 
 
Disaffection 
fathere a child. 
 
The intimacy was 
false. There were anger and theatrics. 
 
The paternity suit falls 
flat. The boundaries between 
underthings are torn. 
 
Painting the self-portrait 
I had made a cut on my face 
for you to bleed. 
 
With a flick of hand 
you wipe out the whole future.