#poemtries

[rxpeating]

𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 

𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙚𝙚 

[damonv1point5]

there is a spot inside me, soft as a summer cloud sun punching through & blanketing your skin

[ctspress]

Brown Girl Manifesto (Too) - Marilyn Chin Metaphor metaphor my pestilential aesthetic A tsunami powers through my mother’s ruins Delta delta moist loins of the republic Succumb to the low-lying succubus do! Flagpole flagpole my father’s polemics A bouquet of fuck-u-bastard flowers Fist me embrace me with your phantom limbs Slay me with your slumlord panegyrics Flip over so I can see your pastoral mounts Your sword slightly parting from the scabbard Girl skulls piled like fresh-baked loaves A foul wind scours my mother’s cadaver Ornamental Oriental techno impresarios I am your parlor rug your chamber bauble Love me stone me I am all yours Pound Pound my father’s Ezra Freedom freedom flageolet-tooting girls Dancing on the roof of the maquiladoras http://www.marilynchin.org/

[damonv1point5]

the things i should have said

hastily scribbled love across the dimple of your neck with nibbles & the caress of lips though more often i should have pushing them past the ridges in your ears & carved it into your heart my tongue more assertive than usual

but now those this time words seem to have died midway through my throat

that must be why my breath stinks

& I always say next time or tomorrow but, who the fuck knows when that is because it is not tomorrow

[damonv1point5]

& still i love her was I supposed to stop ?

one day during a tomorrow i will devolve back into dust & dirt & food for magots. maybe then... maybe...

[damonv1point5]

she mouths words in her sleep & every time my bodies alarm goes off; three am four am & so on I listen, trying to untwist & decipher what she is trying to tell me & every night I always fail I suppose I always have tomorrow night

[damonv1point5]

sometimes version 879

sometimes your lips taste of mint & nicotine & when I'm nibbling at your neck I can taste words before they exit your mouth they taste of black licorice & sometimes sarcasm & I like it

[damonv1point5]

huddled in bed she presses her ear into my chest & my arms are nice decoration to her body listen to my heart- though, sometimes it uses my mouth to speak