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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