Kiss me like my lips have wings, like at any minute i could dissolve under your tongue and sprout a desperate cherry tree.
Month: January 2023
the gas stations are empty.
and the neon lights are missing. and the recycle bins are empty. and the Walmart greeters are missing. and the tissue aisle is empty. and the stockings are missing. and the lady at the register is emptying her mind while scanning my orange juice and blackberries. plenty.
7:06 anti meridian.
today i got up and lit my votive candles.
praying with fingers as i type this hungry bellow.
knowing this is right.
heavy.
and sore from too many dead lifts up the mountain til she come.
surely.
you drape your joy over my throat like an angel with a limp in the night. you follow me to temptation and i follow you to freedom, slowly and surely through the night.
Too Much Salt
Sometimes it is just as you thought it would be. Warm memories atop a bowl of blue. Sites, unseen and crusty from too much salt. Sometimes it comes harshly in the night. Like rain on its way to hell.
Won’t You Go?
There’s a little tan fire burning outside my mouth. I call her regret. She calls me and talks all night. There’s a little igloo atop my eyes. I call him static. He calls me to the back of the line.
Micro-something.
I think in macro. Big wheels crushing something. Maybe it’s the ego, maybe it’s Maybelline.
January 9, 2023
I told my therapist I miss my old self. I miss her confidence in writing. She will not come back to me so I must sit in this new self. This new self that lacks motivation. This new self with bushels of doubt climbing to its rim. And I must seek a bridge to her, daily. I must visit her so often she stops locking the door.
flowersrisin 