The tongue over the unfamiliar color pink.
Under the indulgent skin,
cunning.
Category: poetry
Ravenous
The blister is open where the money is.
Lie down,
Removed from the vicissitude of skin.
The pit of mercy,
His own money,
Leaves her hungry.
A proud pit, a deep pit.
The development of such objects
Unbearable as it is unacceptable
He wanted his place,
His needs eternal,
And so he did something dark.
Equalizer
In the budgetary bay,
the crabs are unaccounted for.
I am an oyster tending my pearl
with irritation and resentment.
Ripples have a mob mentality.
On the boastful shore,
a rabid fox is proud of his dry air.
Rain is the equalizer.
Under My Curves
You will end up under my curves.
Your lips will manifest as stamps on my skin,
Your authority the book I read all day.
You peck at my boundaries,
mysterious weapon
of want and need,
Ascending from sin
To pure release.
Daughterhood
The pure cleanliness of innocence,
Or the unclean marketplace desires?
To be friendly
or experienced?
Our sons come with the scope of power,
With the confidence of a multitude
fed on the milk of love
and grown in crocheted glimmer.
They will learn from a trick candle
How to live.
Our daughters?
They come with blood,
to give birth to thorns.
Untitled 69
Among the piqued daffodils
my body of silk.
Nothing has touched me
but a phantom with a ribbon.
The friction of lace on my
lowest, basest secret.
The clouds are pearlesque,
my skin a pearl casing I wear
because elegance is getting
cheap as talk.
Born from my animal mind,
her breath cascades
over my breasts.
Her hands peel the lace sweetly,
sweaty.
Execution
I remember your letter of gun metal,
How I read it between my ribs
Before I could stand to see it.
I was executed for the fifth time that day,
Convulsing in a pool of my own heart music,
Staccato on the antiseptic floor.
Control is between your thumbs.
Make your skin detectable.
Thank you.
One day it will be as a mirror.
If you are writing again,
use the electrical font.
Go North
A woman of gold
takes the train to the north
and sleeps in cold cars.
What is her business?
Star products.
People live in this fire.
Speak in writing,
alien resident
content.
*
Take your unwise legs
and go northward to the country
to break.
Naked in my Heart
Foul perfume of fear,
my face as lowly wine,
harvest yesterday.
He removes me,
a good counselor.
I know he is clean,
correct,
painful.
His name means success,
In an absent language.
In his cell phone is my stultified image,
another woman
in a lightning world
with no sign
of beauty.
My face is a window.
You see me
standing naked in my heart.
Air
In the smudged silos,
a slipshod grain hungry and unfilling.
The fields here do not even
feed their own.
On the crotchety mountain,
emigres weave stories of
the old cruelty of the thin, dry air,
new cruelty of elevated antiseptic oxygen.
Between a one and a two,
a child is born with four feet.
The cry of a lone lantern in
the nefarious night.
Miniature Moon 