darling it's been awhile,
since my neck was held back ---while---
you whip me around your track--
hair tangled, orange and blue--
the spots in my eyes, my mouth knowing you--
my body it cries;
ancient dialect like nails it goes in
and arched the hanging ---parts of me appear thin
our hearts they are clanging.
my chesty cavern fills with sweet prize
like spongey cake --you--rise
you bake
and ending my dreams are orange in blue
the love in my heart, and knowing you
my work of art.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Tickle your toes. . .
-
Another Indian woman living on our block has hair swept back and braided has jeweled toes, is in all yellow traditional regalia, and walks w...
-
there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
-
like me- it serves as a question as well as an appropriately foolish letter in bad company it only teams up with words like yodel, ...
-
In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but... -
Today I was interviewed for Poets United small stone: July 13th so many things for granted, taken: two kinds of silverware.
-
take flight in linen and lace. things will mesh if you want them to. just throw yourself up against it and maneuver dainty fingers over tiny...
-
Reminder "You do not seem to understand," they'd say "That rivers are wide, and are not so easily crossed, we fear, they ...
-
Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
-
when we are twisted up together-in blankets and the colors of the outside of our window- are washed out in the storm.
-
sex object. not afraid of the words. I've used many objects for the sake of sex. in fact my body has been pretty disposable- I don't...
Poets United Contributor
No comments:
Post a Comment