Take 2

I decided to edit my Jeremiah Chapter 2 exercise - mostly by cutting lines. I probably will still tinker around with it more - I'd like to turn it into something more formal.

You stagger in like a whore, feet shuffled bare, heels held in your hand,

white slip slipping off your shoulder.

You trod on wisteria leaves on your way to the kitchen;

your hair has grown wild like the lotus-plants and pomegranate trees

that have taken over the garden.

Once, I called you the red-haired whore of the vineyard; I insulted the mothers of the men

who dared to dance in between your thighs.

Tonight, I watch you in silence,

knowing the day will come when you will pine,

not for my body, but for the sound of my voice

gently berating your cunt that slithers like a snake between the legs of men,

for the words I hurl at you like knives - for the wounds,

fresher than pineapples that farmers bring to morning markets,

redder than the pomegranate seeds that I crush between my fingers,

watching their juice bleed down my palms, like your blood once bled

down my thighs.