Not Me Being a Pick Me Girl, Surely !!
Bathe me in plastic iridescent craft beads. I want the washcloth grazed down my cheek. Wipe away the panic, the guilt, let the fresh lust effervesce from my pores. Let it pill, let it dampen your hand. Roll your fingertips across the acrylic faceted pearls, the shimmer reflects against your black nails, chipped and chipping further from the plasticky sharded edges. I can be your friendship bracelet now. We don’t have to make any more ever again. Wear me daily, don’t take me off to write, slide in and out easy like olive oil cake. The beads sound like crunching under us. It hurts. I’ll bathe in beads for you if it means you’ll come and stay.
Maybe If You Let Me Hear You Do That Again, I Can Immortalize You Just Right
I can’t figure out how
To write a poem that sounds
Like your moan,
Your gasping through a shot of gravel chips,
Hissing that perforates your lips.
I need more words that open my mouth
ours olive horse
oregano pluck ask
out lull more
I need more words that snap shutter shut me up
map pop cake
tryst classic fragment
hike lit note
I need reverberation
fire revision mine
poem please ow
liar keeper fine
We need the swallows now
stone gulp plop
And the exhales
hot mess eat