What’s the Taylor Swift of sinning?

Celebrity. Tongue. Everything in the world

is marmalade. Fluff. Paddington the Bear likes it.

I miss the joy I unknowingly buried inside you,

so I’m camping alone in my world, you-ing

my head, de-you-ing, taking nudes of my bare

dirty feet, a rorschach smear of damp sandy soil,

floral ankle tattoos root-veining nutrient

warmth down to my cold toes.

The sun at its first hint of set—

my bit by bit breath finding a repository