{"id":43321,"date":"2017-08-06T09:14:23","date_gmt":"2017-08-06T13:14:23","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=43321"},"modified":"2017-08-06T09:14:23","modified_gmt":"2017-08-06T13:14:23","slug":"the-kiss-hour-21","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2017\/08\/the-kiss-hour-21\/","title":{"rendered":"The Kiss (Hour 21)"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">he carved my lips<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">with a rusted spoon <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">one that Gulliver might use.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">the rust a crusty blood stain on the stainless steel. <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">the spoon dull from overuse, the Lilliputians moving it <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/span><span style=\"color: #000000\">in and out of the mouth<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">as I lay bound.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">he scooped out my flesh<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">with a forefinger and middle, <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">probed at the corners <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">with fatted W tips, <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">flaying me open like a pregnant catfish, <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">exposing me<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">to the metronome click<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">a beat of rightness.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">there is one way to kiss<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">to satisfy the lust of correctness.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">smoke belches from your lips \u2013 a Mount Saint Helen\u2019s \u2013 <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">nose, <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">ears, <\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">eyes,<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #000000\">substituting words. <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>he carved my lips with a rusted spoon one that Gulliver might use. the rust a crusty blood stain on the stainless steel. the spoon dull from overuse, the Lilliputians moving it \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 in and out of the mouth as I lay bound. he scooped&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1028,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-43321","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43321","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1028"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=43321"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43321\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":43323,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/43321\/revisions\/43323"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=43321"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=43321"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=43321"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}