smoke drifting from finger tips the flames extinguished by a tongue coated in wine. it envelopes my brain, insertion and removal over and over a dizzying action in darkness. for now just a fantasy i watch like the sun. it disappears over the mountain. i’m pulling teeth until it can reappear in the embodiment of … Continue reading another poem about sex 25.3
Tag: sex
he makes me mad 13.3
here i long to stay safe in the comfort of loving madness. the over and over sounds of skin on skin and squeezes and sighs. we settle into it a little bit too easily, all longing gazes and crossing fingers that it won’t hurt eventually. two narcissistic pessimists falling and falling and falling will it … Continue reading he makes me mad 13.3
pink sludge 26.11
a tupperware box of pink sludge. i hold it in my hands, bloody and bruised guard it with my life even when they tell me it’s worth nothing. that doesn’t matter. i’ll be buried with it six foot underground with the worms and my little plastic box. you pick it out of your teeth every … Continue reading pink sludge 26.11
Untitled 8.6
why do you look at me like that? why do you step closer each time something is revealed about me, as if you’re intrigued? don’t be. there’s nothing to wonder, nothing to uncover or discover about me. does it disappoint you? i’m not a thing that needs saving needs grabbing by the collar and pulled … Continue reading Untitled 8.6
don't listen to me, I'm young and foolish 