Sam Broussard
Sam Broussard
Image courtesy of
Daniel Affolter

Her Comb and Her Perfume


The brilliant wake of falling stars

lights up a poisoned sky

Beyond this window there are things

not fit for human eyes

She sleeps in peace behind me

as I drink away my dream

The poison soothes my nerves

and streaks the sky with clear moonbeams


She appears underwater

hair in waves floating around her

and if I drink so much that I drown at her feet

the vision will be complete


The outside terrifies me

It's hard to leave these rooms

My world is here

near her comb and her perfume


She kicks the covers clear

and now sleeps naked to my sight

Behind her belly it could be

a child grows there tonight

The carelessness was her idea

some disease that she has caught

To bring a child into this world

what a horrifying thought


What the hell can she be thinking

for years I'm wrapped around her finger

Is there some need to further seal our love

and am I not child enough?


If this child is demon spawn

This world is still too crude

My God we crucified a God

who fed a multitude


A spot upon her deepest wall

hears me knocking just down the hall

We pace, we measure, eyeing each other we wait

A showdown at Heaven's Gate

Copyright © 2007, Sam Broussard. All Rights Reserved. Site by rowgully.