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Teea Jul 2020
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The blood fills our hearts and rushes
through every crevice of our bodies.

One. Two. Three.
We breathe in unison as our hearts travel
And our thoughts diverge into particles,
bright as the stars, but strong as my heart.

My cold and bruised cheek makes love
with your warm and red cotton shirt.
Eyes closed, I take a leap of faith.
Failed me before, I cross my fingers and jump.

I fall into your arms and dissolve into you.
Engulfed by the stench of your sweat,
the warmth of the skin baptized me.
Swish. Our skin mingles like newlyweds.

Honeysuckle. Honeydew. You’re sweet.
I miss you.
The sun tattoos the red you give me,
a reminder of a week on Calypso’s island.

Emerald and pearlite. Eyes that enchant.
Your freckles make Bermuda’s triangle
a perfect landing point.
So safe but so unknown. Mary Magdalene

No wonder I fall, you are gravity.
Bring me down to earth. Away from the
Burning sun. Apollo rapes Artemis.
As he prophets my fate. Poetry.

I ignore the stars and their cries,
as together here and now, I am infinite.
Soaring like a bird on ecstasy. I believe.
A crusade brings me to faith. Love.
I wrote this poem after spending a week with someone I care very much about.
  Jul 2020 Teea
Sylvia Plath
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to **** you.
You died before I had time ----
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off the beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My ****** friend

Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene

An engine, an engine,
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You ----

Not God but a *******
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the *****.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.

If I've killed one man, I've killed two ----
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.

There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagersnever liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you *******, I'm through.
Teea Apr 2020
Flies swat. Red pavement.
Bite my thumb to the anthill
in which I rest awake.
Teea Apr 2020
I have loved you since the day that I saw you. Sitting
on the windowsill. Young and naive—you were young and mean.
But different. Careful, paternal, Dependable.
I pour out half of my heart in an SMS format.

Ignored with a wet wing. It would dry. I distanced
We distanced. I ate a danish to make me feel full. No fruit.
My legs shook. Your name made me quiver.
Next turn of the sun there you were. Standing

in the stairwell, happy, friendly, New.
I fell down a rabbit hole. I can’t get back up
Your friend… another. I’m waiting for you in a peach dress.
Your eyes are blinded by the smell of honey. Sweet.

It stings you. You run away.
You came home. I smell like vanilla and cinnamon.
Pushing my warmth away you crave the snow.
Chocolate, chocolate that’s all you are.

‘Swounds. I clean them too. Soft and patient, it stings.
The alcohol helps, I cure. You scratch at the scab.
****** Mary; I am not your mom, I take a sip.
Your trust in my hands, Your heart on your sleeve.
Awaiting my heart to dissolve in your tea like Vitamin C.

— The End —