Cavity
First seen in LAMINATOR Vol. 1
No matter how hard you try
You are such a “nice” guy.
Kind.
Profanely neutral.
A saccharine artist
Bloated with honey.
You hand out sweets to all the young girls.
My sweet lover
of mercy --
you know no boundary
in your sugar-coated generosity
when you invade vulnerability
with you dehydrating pity.
You enter so sweetly,
so discreetly
carving out a cavity
into what was once healthy.
You coat with a sticky residue
that putrefies ---
then deserts over time.
These rotten games you play
leave me empty
with a horrid aftertaste.
A soft infected hole
of bottomless decay.
It’s what you do
my dear
and out of a murky pain
the truth runs clear.
How can I remember yesterday
as sweet satiety?
How do I think of love as lucious candy
when today is exposed --
a constant ache of excess
a cavity
of spoiled absence.
Ami Watanabe
Ami Watanabe is a poet, blogger, and visual artist from Chicago, IL. She attended South Suburban College, Purdue University and Governor’s State University. She won the Scriblarean Best Poem Contest, and was Second Place Winner of the Sigrid Stark Undergraduate Poetry. Her poems and articles have appeared in the Spindrift, Scribblarean, the Pond, The Write City Review, volume 4, Laminator Vol 1, The Calumet Press, and the Southeast Observer. Her photography has appeared in the Chicago Star, Memory House Magazine, spring 2023 edition, and Performance Response Journal. Check her blog out at www.diamondlifeadventures.com