And the earth was
wide
and flat
and we
and we were two
simple clay beings
surrounded by monstrous empire,
bombarded by spiny insults,
hurled by the unknown
and flying now,
through glassy oceans,
under galactic mountains.
dandelion wine on our lips.
heavy hearts
and heavy arms.
sweaty hands grab
clinging in the midnight still
waiting just for the pad of a thumb
to rub away all but our fantastic fantasies
our frolicking, secluded everything
our joy and wrenching, potent way of feeling.
nervous hands never fall away.

The bitter taste
that brings back greasy dread
and aching everything.
limbs that fall shaky
with your bitter taste.

nuzzling coarse whiskers upon my panes.
with your bitter memory,
nestling coarse whicker inside my brain

I can feel all that I believed.
when the back of my arm
rubs this stain from my red and smacking maw
it's in my skin.
it is my skin.

biting black. cutting coffee.
dripping, tearing down my throat
sanding off my lips with coffee grounds.
And all this for a warm belly
that can heat only my flesh.