Like Needles

She watches us,

picking at us not with jealousy but with the needle of judgement.

unworking and unstitching our skin

Hoping to accidendently puncture

Blood spewing and boiling thus bubbling

until it burns one of us or both of us

Unworkng and unstutching

Hoping,

Praying to the God she claims to love

that her needle will

Rip the threads

Peel back the fabric

And reveal the nerves she wants to

pluck like she plucks her angel harp

She watches us,

her stare like needles.

(poems go here)