I could've sworn I left the electricity under your mattress.
Where is it?
I walked in on you as nostalgia played through the speakers. It hit me with a solidity that reminded me this wasn't permanent.
Allow me (for a moment) to return to the mattress:
covered in
fingerprints
it held your truths.
Your abysmal sensation.
Where did you leave the fear that once left you crippled and whole?
I want to wear it as an amulet.
I want to wear it as
I wore you once.
I want to wear it as you wore me
once.
I have nothing to show for it,
except for longer nails.
Nature saw that I need a new defense mechanism.
And this is what it went with.
What a start!
What a laugh!
Leave your lipstick where it is,
but take your pearls.
They were a present. Not from me.
Grab me by the throat.
Choke me until I'm unconscious or horny.
Choke me until we are fully dressed and
ready to be present'd to the auditorium of nubile paesants and fedora wearers and
expectant mothers and cross-dressing illiterates.
Let's teach them the lessons they keep forgetting and stop them from repeating the same mistakes.
Hold on to the smoke-screen
Imagin'd only to be the wintry endowment of less than pleasant
apologies. Leave the winter.
Leave the smudged out and overlooked Truths
on the nightstand. I can sweep the crumbs in the morning.
Tempt me into a state of near exhaustion.
Make me have to hold my own head by nightfall.
Come quickly, then leave.
No comments:
Post a Comment