A pinwheel smile
and a laugh like lidocaine
she licks her lips,
honeycomb on serrated tongue
this thing is made of plastic
and you are flesh and light
washing hands of unbelongings
merging with a comfortable cough
a butterfly path
and I’ve lived so long
without wings
so long in boundaries defined
past transgressions
still sting violent
a shadow is a spade
choking on air of ego
she is a triple number
saving me angelic
from dropping off
in recurring dream
and I am simultaneously
gaining and losing potential
Advertisements
fantastic