i am not a starched blouse.

someday. . .

[sassthatsarcasm]

i know an aching softness her cheek is a peach from which i gorge and bloat i crave to be the satin that cradles her swells and curves murmur nothings that taste of everything onto the line of her back, the valleys of her chest toe to crown she is an exquisite delicacy that steals my lungs on a bed of roses, satin, red silk, clothed with a smile (i wake in violence).

(via sassthatsarcasm)

[sasspoems]

hand over mouth like we’re surprised you’re in your sunday things, ready for bed we could’ve been something if it wasn’t for - everything noon settles over the windowpanes and we sigh it’s over, it’s not enough that paint is still drying but we’re done noon stands unmoved but we’re -

[sasspoems]

i love you like a moth to a light like a blonde loves silver (dress / screen) my belly murmurs of hunger deep i don’t think it’s about you but maybe it is, because it always is

[sasspoems]

my skirt tightens over my swelled stomach stuffed with all the things i haven’t said to you what is love, if not smiling as you bite your tongue? blood in the gaps of your teeth, like aphrodite described

[sasspoems]

i mumble into my coffee-stained skirt ‘i have to sweep, cook, clean’ you sweep home in a daze of flowers soup cold on the dinner table 'clean, clean’ from the sink to the toilet to my inner thighs i rub between my legs to try to be clean enough for you

[sasspoems]

sweetheart, did you hear? on the radio, they announced a new frigidaire keeps meat and easily spoiled things fresh sweetheart, did you hear? your mother called to ask about you i told her you were at the office working late you'd really been enjoying the perfume department you always smell so sweet coming home sweetheart, did you hear? i'd do anything you asked tighter ass, bigger tits - i'd get rid of my teeth i'd wash dishes naked and cook your favorite every night i'd jump off this ledge  i'd kiss the ground while she kissed you sweetheart, just say the word

as you wish

[sasspoems]

it’s not that i want to die dying is so ugly,  a crude face made on a commissioned portrait unborn isn’t the word because still there’s a violence to it like the clacking of teeth i want the middle ground of the unclear prefix not the un- dis- im- slip into nothingness like a sip of water  the peace of erasing the not-yet like a sip of water down a faded throat

[sasspoems]

medicine is so bitter in a way that seems unnecessary. birds flit in the spaces of your outstretched fingers, blue fragments peeking through. medicine is a cherry bitten whole, a chalky sense of wellness. on a good day like this, your body is bare: mind clean; feet dirtless.  the grass seeps water into your blood, a mother wiping down her filthy child. no admonishment from the whistling wind. only a sweet whisper, scraping the flat of your bitter tongue. on a good day like this, you don’t need your medicine.

[sasspoems]

a young girl, nameless as all young girls should be, walks into a skyscraper and demands a pedestal. sit me with the stars, close enough to know their heat. pretty as sin, as all young girls should be, she shredded the filmy night, with her big voice and bigger thighs. slicker than honey, she was, softer and sleeker that she had any right to be. a satin being; a woman being. i’m an effigy of a star in a glittering dress. this young girl, man-loving as all young girls should be, spent her nights licking pearls out of pig’s mouths, spent her mornings scrubbing lipstick from her hands. volcanoes erupt on my blistered tongue and i beam pretty still.

[sasspoems]

when you first meet her, the world turns into the soft flesh of a banana muted lights and jazz anaesthetised like the sea just walked in she wears a tired sundress, worn brown with age freckles splattered finely across her nose, shoulder, mouth corner you finish your drink instead of falling on your knees in front of her; instead of sliding her skirt up one brown thigh she looks at you suddenly, as if she knows why your legs are shaking she smiles walks out with her freckles and sundress the garish red of the open sign sings to the throb between your legs

[sasspoems]

when cassiopeia steps down from the sky, she has an ice cube smile she wrenches my hand from my side and takes me up  up up until the stars become club lights and her ice melts standing in the curling corner of the paper night, i watch her weave away from me legends' heads bobbing to the scream of stars there, andromeda writhes in skin-tight sea-green red streaming from her gaping stomach there, patroclus clutches at achilles and sways sweetly there, apollo tries and fails to draw people into conversation i miss her; it's lonely in the ninetieth degree of the sky so this is how constellations let their hair down it's wanton and melancholy, down to the punch i'm drinking ink was never meant to be swilled or swallowed yet here we stand, our teeth coated in night-black so this is how constellations mourn grinding their pelvises into icy space yearning for the warmth of mortality

celestial navigation and other party tricks

[sasspoems]

a stretch of back, neck, lip sometimes i imagine touching you i touch me to you touching me (sometimes) the neon pink of infatuation  comes to a boil under my skin if i could kiss you again for the first time, i would i'd try to do it better: less tongue, more hands i'd bleed pink all over you you'd be stained beyond cleaning lady m on a twin bed, uncrowned, undone

pink in the night

[sasspoems]

he had a sharp nose, seeming to accuse me but his tea was excellent (even though i don’t like tea) he spoke with a glass delicacy when he asked ‘sugar?’ when i got up after our time ended his eyes seemed to beg me to stay i smiled said goodbye told him, “people like you better when you can swallow the hard truths”

interview with a flat-earther

[sasspoems]

a body is a house: windows, doorways, openings galore safe as houses, they say, while my openings gape and lure sharks.  safe as houses, they say, and my windows throb in irony.  a proverb is not a promise. wandering a supermarket, feet bare, i really wish they’d made that clear. like a warning on a pack of almonds. my body is a house: i really wish they’d made that clear.

[sasspoems]

violence in natural desire tongue like lashes (eyes or leather) dreams always smell better than they taste how does it feel to swallow me? false advertising when i’m just looking at the planets i am so much better wrapped in the silk of your delusion what am i to you, a body? breathless, lifeless, voiceless blue purple eyelids and tongue as red as blood from gashes venus never asks me to speak pretty and pink  she knows what it’s like to be sparkling rock like sappho said or something like that, slender aphrodite has overcome with with fury to be a woman is to want is to starve is to throb that is what i learned at your knee so consume me, suck my bones dry teach me how to be the picture in the cinema of your mind

[sassthatsarcasm]

you don’t know what he tastes like without bitterness. the rasp of cheap wine, yes, but also loss writ on his tongue like a promise. can you love without scant light through a closet door? can you fathom a bed not sheeted in darkness? it’s beastly, how you love. flickering fluorescent and he still looks like a dream. a fantasy? a hallucination. you couldn’t stop loving him if it were outlawed. it’s in your blood, now, to crave him. it’s not - it’s not love, because you promised. you can’t have a house built on quicksand and your affection shifts like lightning. it’s not love because he could never -   when the music pushes you back in time, you hold his hand and it feels like eternity. the ebb and flow of tides; your swaying in the kitchen.  raking the leaves should never feel like a rollercoaster ride. that’s why you can never - nose to throat, cheek to ear, mouth to aching mouth: lips should never feel like a cliff’s edge. you keep your cheap wine and your apartness. you’re white-knuckled on sanity. it’s not love. because blue is a sin of a colour and for once you’d like to do something right.

plea written under kitchen light (via sassthatsarcasm)

[sasspoems]

i am a moss-covered thing, lives burrowing within me i ache, and ache, and ache, and tire of it take any part of me but leave some for the crows death is a gaping maw and i pity it so your hair sweeps over your eyes and it’s such a sweet taste leave me to love you on the forest floor, i don’t mind my heart doesn’t forget even when the crickets crawl into my eyes