cold air <br /> <br />knives <br /> <br />the red car drives... <br /> <br />snow speckles laughing <br />as the windshield wipers bow <br /> <br />he sings and defends her <br />from the wicked, wicked <br />world <br /> <br />her smile, suddenly <br />grows weak. <br /> <br />he goes to work <br /> <br />wrenching her <br />with questions <br />he'll wish he never <br />asked <br /> <br />pulls from her throat <br />a black ribbon of secrets <br /> <br />he will probably <br />hang himself <br />with.<br /><br />Jonny Brackney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/black-ribbon-3/
