imploring longevity (2020)
it was not three words,
or flora,
which would remain at the forefront of my mind —
but rather scarlett and heliotrope —
nestled between flesh and heat —
embracing the trunks of my throat —
blossoming in cherry-round tattoos —
begging to be pressed upon.
craving teeth or nimble fingers to endulge them
for a second more —
imploring longevity till the next aurora.


















