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zubeda-khan
Poems1
Words79
I am a glowing little body of softness. An opening. A wide-awake place for you to dip your fingers into and feel heat. We are biting mango skins at the dinner table. We are wiping fruit nectar dripping down our chins. We are sticky hands and baby teeth And we are learning what it means when our Favorite things are mama's feet walking across the kitchen and pools of sunlight spilling from the bedroom window. I am sleepless and it is 4 AM and it is all too humid except for the breeze clat- clat- clattering the blinds. We are tightly knotted at the limbs. Your breath smells like peppermint toothpaste and 'how was class today baby' is the thin strand of home keeping me grounded. I am looking at you brave, I am looking at you raw. I am looking at the lines in my hands and feeling powerful. River bed palms. Hair like seaweed; salty-eyed, calm. We are sitting by the sliding balcony door of my apartment. We are sitting on the bench watching seagulls. Listen, I am thinking. Don't forget this sound.
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May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 3:41 PM UTC
zubeda-khan
On Warm Things
I am a glowing little body of softness. An opening. A wide-awake place for you to dip your fingers into and feel heat. We are biting mango skins at the dinner table. We are wiping fruit nectar dripping down our chins. We are sticky hands and baby teeth And we are learning what it means when our Favorite things are mama's feet walking across the kitchen and pools of sunlight spilling from the bedroom window. I am sleepless and it is 4 AM and it is all too humid except for the breeze clat- clat- clattering the blinds. We are tightly knotted at the limbs. Your breath smells like peppermint toothpaste and 'how was class today baby' is the thin strand of home keeping me grounded. I am looking at you brave, I am looking at you raw. I am looking at the lines in my hands and feeling powerful. River bed palms. Hair like seaweed; salty-eyed, calm. We are sitting by the sliding balcony door of my apartment. We are sitting on the bench watching seagulls. Listen, I am thinking. Don't forget this sound.
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